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a  jfifteentl)  Centurp 


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^  Jf ifteentii  Centura 
Retool  Pook 

FROM  A  MANUSCRIPT 
IN  THE  BRITISH  MUSEUM 

(mS.  ARUNDEL  249) 
EDITED    BY 

WILLIAM  NELSON 

Professor  of  English  Literature 
Columbia  University 


OXFORD 

AT  THE  CLARENDON  PRESS 

I95<S 


Oxford  Unwersity  Press,  Amen  House,  London  E.C.4 

GLASGOW   NEW  YORK  TORONTO  MELBOURNE  WELLINGTON 
BOMBAY  CALCUTTA  MADRAS  KARACHI  CAPE  TOWN  IBADAN 

Geoffrey  Cumherlege,  Publisher  to  the  University 


PRINTED  IN  GSBAT  BRITAIN 


.3 


^\B  R  A  /?  -{?5 
DEC  2  7  1965 

'^%*s;Ty  OF  ^o«o#^ 

10  34284 


CONTENTS 

INTRODUCTION  vii 
NOTE  ON  THE  TEXT  xxx 
PASSAGES  FOR  TRANSLATION  INTO  LATIN     i 

Morning                                                      ,  i 

The  Seasons  4 

Food  and  Drink  7 

The  Boy  and  His  Family  1 3 

The  Study  of  Latin  18 

Sports,  Games,  and  Holidays  23 

The  Boy,  His  Master,  and  His  Master's  Rod  28 
The  Kinds  of  Scholar:  Witty  and  Dull,  Honest  and  Wanton    3  5 

Schoolroom  Talk  39 

Friendship  and  Perfidy  43 

Thieves  and  Cheats  51 

Good  Counsel  55 

Men  and  Manners  of  Antiquity  63 

Epistolary  Scraps  66 

Polite  and  Impolite  Conversation  73 

A  Variety  of  Observations  85 

News  91 


vi  CONTENTS 

NOTES  TO  THE  TEXT  94 

Appendix  I.  The  Latin  Version  of  Passages  i,  52,  and  331  loi 
Appendix  II.  Order  of  Passages  in  the  Manuscript  105 


INTRODUCTION 

In  the  last  years  of  the  fifteenth  century,  a  teacher  of 
grammar  at  Magdalen  School,  Oxford,  wrote  down  some 
four  hundred  English  prose  passages,  each  with  its  model 
Latin  translation,  to  serve  as  a  supply  of  exercises  for  his 
students.  The  passages  dealt  with  the  everyday  affairs  of 
everyday  people:  schoolboys  and  adults  at  study,  work, 
and  play  in  Oxford,  in  London,  and  in  the  country. 
The  English  of  this  schoolbook  is  here  transcribed  in 
full,  together  with  a  sample  of  the  Latin. 

The  genre  to  which  the  Magdalen  School  compilation 
belongs  is  as  old  as  foreign  language  teaching.  If  students 
are  to  speak  an  alien  tongue  freely  and  correctly,  as  though 
they  were  born  to  it,  they  must  be  subjected  to  long  periods 
of  practice  in  colloquial  expression.  Since  such  practice 
is  necessarily  tedious,  teachers  of  every  age  have  tried  to 
provide  relief  by  setting  passages  for  translation  which 
are  occasional,  informative,  uplifting,  or  gay.  Cardinal 
Wolsey,  who  was  himself  at  one  time  a  Magdalen  School 
grammar  master,  urged  teachers  to  invent  exercises  'not 
silly  or  pointless,  but  with  a  clear  or  well/phrased  mean/ 
ing  which  a  boy's  mind  might  sympathize  with'.^  It  is  not 
easy  to  follow  this  instruction  and  at  the  same  time  to 
provide  intensive  practice  in  vocabulary,  idiom,  and 
sentence  structure,  as  innumerable  manuals  designed  to 
teach  'conversation*  in  foreign  tongues  sufficiently  testify. 
But  when  it  is  obeyed,  the  teacher  also  may  achieve 
another  goal,  quite  unlooked/for:  preservation  for  the 

'  R.  S.  Stanier,  Magdalen  School  (Oxford,  1940),  p.  48. 


vm  INTRODUCTION 

future  of  an  intimate  view  of  the  speech,  customs,  and 
ideals  of  his  times,  the  kind  of  view  no  arsenal  of  state 
papers  can  supply. 

Here,  for  example,  is  a  piece  which  schoolboys  of  the 
days  of  imperial  Rome  were  required  to  translate  from 
Latin  into  Greek: 

'What  did  you  do  today?* 

*I  woke  early  and  called  my  boy.  I  told  him  to  open  the  window. 
He  opened  it  promptly.  I  got  up  and  sat  on  the  frame  of  my  bed  and 
asked  for  my  shoes  and  leggings,  for  it  was  cold.  After  my  shoes  I 
put  on  my  underclothing.  My  garments  were  brought  out  to  me. 
Water  for  my  face  was  fetched  in  a  little  jug.  After  I  had  washed 
first  my  hands  and  then  my  face  and  mouth,  I  rubbed  my  teeth  and 
gums,  spat  out  the  waste,  and  wiped  my  nose.  All  of  this  was 
spilled  out.  I  dried  my  hands,  my  arms,  and  my  face  so  that  I  might 
go  forth  neatly  as  befits  a  schoolboy.  Then  I  found  stylus  and  parch^ 
ment  and  gave  them  to  my  boy.  Fully  equipped,  I  went  out  cheers 
fully,  my  pedagogue  directly  behind  me,  through  the  arcade  which 
led  to  the  school.  Whenever  I  met  acquaintances  I  greeted  them  and 
they  returned  the  greeting.  When  I  came  to  the  staircase,  I  climbed 
it  slowly  and  easily,  as  I  should.  I  left  my  cloak  in  the  anteroom  and 
smoothed  my  hair. . .  .'^ 

And  in  England,  before  the  Norman  Conquest,  boys 
were  taught  to  turn  into  Latin  conversations  like  this  one: 

'What  say  you,  ploughboy,  how  do  you  do  your  work?* 
*Oh,  dear  sir,  I  must  work  very  hard.  I  go  out  at  dawn,  drive  the 
oxen  to  the  field,  and  yoke  them  to  the  plow.  However  hard  the 
winter  is,  I  dare  not  idle  at  home  for  fear  of  my  master,  and  when  I 
have  yoked  the  oxen  and  fastened  the  ploughshare  and  coulter  to 
the  plough  I  must  plough  daily  a  whole  acre  or  more.* 
'Do  you  have  a  helper?* 

^  Hermeneumata  Pseudodoshheana,  in  Corpus  Glossarium  Latinorum,  cd. 
G.  Goetz  (Leipzig,  1892),  iii.  379-8i. 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

*I  have  a  boy  who  guides  the  oxen  with  a  goad,  and  he  also  is 
hoarse  with  the  cold  and  his  shouting.' 

'Do  you  do  anything  else  during  the  day  ?* 

*I  have  more  to  do  than  I  have  said,  certainly.  I  must  fill  with 
hay  the  mangers  of  the  oxen  and  give  them  water  and  carry  their 
dung  outside.' 

*Oh,  oh!  your  tasks  are  heavy  ones.' 

'Yes,  sir,  they  are  heavy,  for  I  am  not  a  free  man.** 

These  colloquies  are  not  without  stiffness,  in  part  because 
I  have  had  to  translate  them.  But  it  is  a  rare  thing  to  hear 
of  the  order  of  a  Roman  schoolboy's  toilet  or  of  the  round 
of  an  Anglo/Saxon  ploughboy's  duties. 

In  early  Tudor  times,  collections  of  such  exercises  were 
known  as  vulgaria  because  they  consisted  of  matter  Vulgar' 
or  colloquial  in  character.  Since  Latin  was  still  being 
taught  as  a  language  to  be  spoken,  every  grammar 
master  of  the  time  must  have  made  use  of  this  kind  of 
compilation,  whether  one  of  his  own  devising  or  a  printed 
or  manuscript  copy  of  another's.  At  least  four  of  them 
were  in  print  by  1520:  two  which  are  attributed  to  John 
Anwykyll  and  to  John  Stanbridge,  and  two  written 
by  William  Horman  and  Robert  Whittinton.  All  these 
vulgaria  except  Horman's  book  (which  was  privately 
printed  for  the  use  of  the  boys  at  Eton)  went  through 
numerous  editions,  and  Whittinton's  was  incorporated 
whole  into  a  schoolbook  published  as  late  as  163  3.  Never-' 
theless,  no  new  vulgaria  appeared  in  print  after  1520. 
Roger  Ascham  tells  us,  a  generation  later,  that  he  had 
little  faith  in  the  latinity  of  the  best  of  them;^  in  any  case, 

'  Aelfric's  Colloquy,  cd.  G.  N.  Garmonsway  (London,  1939),  pp. 
20-21. 

^  The  Schoolmaster,  in  The  Whole  Works  of  Roger  Ascham,  ed.  J.  A. 
Giles  (1864),  iii.  88-89. 


X  INTRODUCTION 

by  the  middle  of  the  century  the  desire  to  teach  Latin  as 
a  medium  of  ordinary  conversation  had  already  begun 
to  decline.  The  place  of  the  vulgaria  was  taken,  in  part,  by 
the  colloquies  of  Erasmus  and  Vives,  formal  dialogues  in 
what  was  considered  impeccable  Latin.  The  atmosphere 
of  these  colloquies  is  not  that  of  the  vulgaria.  'Familiar' 
subjects  are  still  treated:  Erasmus  writes  of  the  incon/ 
veniences  of  German  inns  and  of  the  chicanery  of  the 
keepers  of  the  shrine  of  St.  Thomas  at  Canterbury.  But 
his  conversations  are  listened  to,  not  overheard.  In  Eng/ 
land,  the  informal  'vulgar'  note  is  not  struck  again  in 
sixteenth/century  Latin  schoolbooks,  and  rarely,  I  think, 
thereafter,  though  it  may  sometimes  be  detected  in  French 
and  Italian  conversation  manuals  like  those  of  Shake/ 
speare's  contemporaries  Claudius  Holyband,  John  Florio, 
and  John  Eliot. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  the  historian  of  society,  the 
least  interesting  of  the  Tudor  vulgaria  is  the  earliest,  VuU 
garia  quedam  ahs  Terentio  in  Anglicam  lingmm  traducta,  which 
was  printed  in  a  volume  of  grammatical  tracts  by  the 
first  Magdalen  School  grammar  master,  John  Anwy/ 
kyll  (1483).  As  its  tide  advertises,  the  English  passages 
in  this  compilation  are  translations  from  detached  scraps 
of  conversation  culled  from  the  plays  of  Terence,  and 
only  the  occasional  substitution  of 'London'  for  a  classical 
place/name  suggests  that  the  author  was  at  all  concerned 
with  adapting  Terence  to  the  interests  of  his  boys. 

The  vulgaria  attributed  to  Stanbridge,  Anwykyll's 
successor  at  Magdalen  (first  known  edition,  c.  1509  [?])^ 
is  more  lively  stufF.^  It  consists  of  short  sentences  like 
these: 

'  See  H.  S.  Bennett,  English  Books  and  Readers  1475-1557,  p.  267, 
2  The  Vulgaria  oj  John  Stanbridge  and  the  Vulgaria  of  Robert  Whittinton, 


INTRODUCTION  Xl 

His  nose  is  like  a  shoeing  horn. 
Sit  away  or  I  shall  give  thee  a  blow! 
Thou  strikest  me  that  dare  not  strike  again. 
He  is  the  veriest  coward  that  ever  pissed. 
Would  God  we  might  go  play! 

The  chatter  of  the  Tudor  schoolroom  is  clearly  heard. 
But  though  the  talk  rings  true,  it  lacks  substance:  no 
subject  is  discussed,  no  scene  described,  no  view  expressed. 
William  Horman's  vulgaria  (i5i9)ns  a  far  more  ela^ 
borate  volume  than  its  predecessors.  The  eminent  school-' 
masters  Aldrich,  master  at  Eton,  and  Lily,  master  at 
St.  Paul's,  introduced  the  book  with  epigrams  and 
epistles  praising  the  purity  of  the  author's  Latin  and  Eng^ 
lish  expression.  Horman's  book  differs  from  the  earlier 
vulgaridy  too,  in  the  fact  that  it  employs  a  method  of  arrange^ 
ment.  In  those  collections,  the  passages  are  heaped  to^ 
gether  quite  without  order,  apparently  as  they  came  to 
mind.  Horman  arranged  his  exercises  according  to  sub^ 
ject/matter:  marriage  and  children;  flowers,  fruits,  and 
vegetables;  the  arts  and  sciences;  medicine  and  health; 
sports  and  pastimes;  military  affairs;  and  the  like.  The 
following  sentences  are  chosen  from  a  section  concerned 
with  the  kitchen: 2 

Whereas  a  flint  or  another  stone  to  smite  fire  cannot  be  got,  it 
must  be  done  with  rubbing  of  two  treen  [i.e.  wooden]  pieces  to^ 
gether. 

I  shall  get  me  dry  toadstools  or  fine  linen  cloth,  half  burnt,  to 
make  tinder  of 

ed.  B.  White  for  The  Early  English  Text  Society,  o.s.,  No.  187  (1932). 
Miss  White's  Introduction  to  this  edition  contains  the  most  complete 
study  available  of  the  early  Tudor  vulgaria. 

'  Ed.  M.  R.  James  for  the  Roxburghc  Club  (1926). 

^  Chapter  xvi. 


xu  INTRODUCTION 

Lay  this  flesh  in  the  brine  lest  it  be  lost  [i.e.  spoiled]. 
Peel  some  cloves  of  garlic  and  stamp  them. 
Wash  all  the  greasy  dishes  and  vessel  in  the  lead  caldron  or  pan 
in  hot  water,  and  set  them  clean  upon  the  scullery  board. 
Take  a  wisp  of  straw  and  ashes  and  scour  this  pot. 
Set  the  earthen  pot  by  himself  for  [i.e.  to  prevent]  breaking. 
These  rags  will  serve  for  kitchen  cloths. 

In  the  section  devoted  to  'bedrooms  and  related  matters* 
the  sentences  run  together  to  form  a  well/knit  paragraph 
combining  exercise  in  vocabulary  with  moral  instruct 
tion: 

He  that  saw  some  women  out  of  their  array  would  have  less 
courage  [i.e.  inclination]  to  be  enamored  upon  them.  They  white 
their  face,  neck,  and  paps  with  ceruse  [i.e.  white  lead],  and  their 
lips  and  ruds  [i.e.  cheeks]  with  purpurisse  [a  red  or  purple  dye]. 
They  fill  up  their  freckles  and  stretch  abroad  their  skin  with 
tetanother  [a  cosmetic  for  removing  wrinkles],  and  pluck  out  their 
hairs  with  pinching  irons  and  styllathre  [depilatory  (?)].  They 
change  the  natural  colour  of  their  hair  with  crafty  colour  and  sun^ 
ning.  Honest  women  that  use  none  of  these  be  more  goodly  and 
commended  in  their  natural  beauty  with  sober  dealing  and 
good  manners.^ 

The  appearance  in  the  next  year  of  yet  another  vulgarian 
this  one  by  Robert  Whittinton,^  set  off  a  violent  gram^ 
marians'  war.  Lily  and  Aldrich  espoused  Horman's 
cause;  the  poet  John  Skelton  took  sides  with  Whittinton. 
Whatever  personal  jealousies  and  antipathies  may  have 
been  involved,  there  was  a  real  educational  issue  at  stake. 
Horman,  like  Colet,  Erasmus,  Wolsey,  and,  as  we  shall 
see,  the  author  of  the  Magdalen  School  vulgaria^  placed 
primary  emphasis  on  the  imitation  of  good  examples  as 
the  best  method  of  teaching  Latin  expression.  Whittinton 

'  Chapter  xviii.  ^  Ed.  B.  White,  op.  cit. 


INTRODUCTION  xm 

argued  that  the  first  necessity  was  a  thorough  grounding 
in  grammatical  rules  or  'precepts',  declaring  that  without 
it  students  acquired  merely  the  appearance  of  facility  in 
the  tongue.  In  this  he  was  supported  by  Skelton  who  made 
fun  of  teachers  who  would  set  a  child  to  Plautus  and 
Quintilian  when  he  'can  scantly  the  tenses  of  his  con/ 
jugations*.""  The  controversy  continues  today;  no  doubt 
it  began  with  the  first  pair  of  grammarians.  ' 

Whittinton's  position  in  this  dispute  dictated  the 
method  of  his  vulgaria.  Each  section  is  introduced  by  the 
statement  of  a  grammatical  rule.  Then  follows  a  group  of 
'vulgars'  chosen  to  illustrate  its  application  and  often  a 
quotation  from  a  classical  authority.  Despite  this  atten/ 
tion  to  grammar,  Whittinton  was  clever  enough  to  link 
many  of  his  sentences  together  in  terms  of  content,  too,  so 
as  to  constitute  little  essays  and  conversations.  The  longest 
of  these  is  a  pretentious  dialogue  between  Master  and 
Student  concerning  the  duties  and  responsibilities  of 
each.  But  often  the  interchanges  are  vivacious: 

'Peace,  the  master  is  come  into  the  school.* 

'He  is  as  welcome  to  many  of  us  as  water  into  the  ship.* 

'I  shall  play  him  a  cast  of  legerdemain  and  yet  he  shall  not  espy  it, 

as  quickeyed  as  he  is.  Whiles  he  declareth  the  leaure  of  TuUy  I  will 

convey  myself  out  of  the  doors  by  sleight.' 

Sometimes  Whittinton's  humour  strikes  a  sour  note. 
All  the  vulgaria  have  much  to  say  about  beating — it 
seems  to  have  been  one  of  the  major  topics  of  conversa/ 
tion  among  Tudor  schoolboys.  Whittinton  is  deHghted 
by  the  subject: 

I  played  my  master  a  merry  prank  (or,  play)  yesterday,  and  there-' 
fore  he  hath  taught  me  to  sing  a  new  song  today.  He  hath  made  mc 

'  'Speak,  Parrot!'  11.  181-7. 


XIV  INTRODUCTION 

to  run  a  race  (or,  a  course)  that  my  buttocks  doth  sweat  a  bloody 
sweat.  The  more  instantly  that  I  prayed  him  to  pardon  me,  the 
faster  he  laid  upon.  He  hath  taught  me  a  lesson  that  I  shall  re^ 
member  whiles  I  live. 

And  he  lingers  lovingly  upon  some  of  the  less  attractive 
sights  of  London: 

Upon  London  Bridge  I  saw  three  or  four  men's  heads  stand  upon 
poles.  Upon  Ludgate  the  forequarter  of  a  man  is  set  upon  a  pole. 
Upon  the  other  side  hangeth  the  haunch  of  a  man  with  the  leg.  It 
is  a  strange  sight  to  see  the  hair  of  the  heads  [fall]  or  [mould]  away 
and  the  grisde  of  the  nose  consumed  away,  the  fingers  of  their  hands 
withered  and  clunged  [i.e.  shrivelled]  unto  the  bare  bones.  It  is  a 
spectacle  for  ever  to  all  young  people  to  beware  that  they  presume 
not  too  far  upon  their  own  heedness  (or,  self  mind). 

But  Whittinton  cannot  be  dismissed  as  merely  a  terror 
to  schoolchildren.  His  comments  on  affairs  of  the  day  are 
temperate  and  intelligent.  He  discusses  such  matters  as 
Linacre's  translation  of  the  writings  of  the  Greek  physician, 
Galen,  the  effect  of  the  recently  invented  craft  of  print" 
ing  on  the  scriveners'  trade,  and,  with  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
humanist,  the  arrival  of  the  new  learning  in  England.  Best 
of  all  is  his  character  sketch  of  Thomas  More,  written 
not  long  after  More  had  entered  government  service: 

More  is  a  man  of  an  angel's  wit  and  singular  learning.  He  is  a 
man  of  many  excellent  virtues;  if  I  should  say  as  it  is,  I  know  not 
his  fellow.  For  where  is  the  man  in  whom  is  so  many  goodly 
virtues  of  that  gentleness,  lowliness,  and  affability?  And  as  time 
requireth,  a  man  of  marvelous  mirth  and  pastimes,  and  sometimes 
of  as  sad  [i.e.  sober]  gravity.  As  who  say,  a  man  for  all  seasons. 

The  value  of  these  vulgaria  as  mirrors  of  men  and 
manners  is  well  recognized.  The  Horman,  Stanbridge, 
and  Whittinton  collections  have  been  made  available  to 


INTRODUCTION  xv 

scholars  in  modern  editions,  the  first  by  M.  R.  James  for 
the  Roxburghe  Club  (1926),  the  latter  two  by  Miss 
Beatrice  White  for  The  Early  English  Text  Society 
(1932).  Miss  M.  St.  Clare  Byrne  has  published  a  selection 
from  Elizabethan  French  conversation  manuals  under  the 
appropriate  title  The  Elizahethan  Horned  But  the  anony/- 
mous  Magdalen  School  vulgaria  which  is  the  subject  of 
this  book  has  never  been  printed  or  quoted.  Nor  has  it, 
to  my  knowledge,  been  described  beyond  its  brief  notice 
in  the  catalogue  of  Arundel  manuscripts  in  the  British 
Museum,  though  it  is  the  earliest  (except  for  Anwykyll's) 
and  in  some  respects  the  most  remarkable  of  all.^  Before 
examining  its  contents,  I  must  submit  the  evidence  for 
the  date  and  place  of  origin  which  I  have  assigned  to  it. 


II 

The  vulgaria  forms  part  of  MS.  249  (fols.  9^^/61'")  of  the 
Arundel  collection  in  the  British  Museum,  a  volume 
which  the  cataloguer  describes  as  of  the  fifteenth  century. 
The  book  consists  chiefly  of  pieces  which  would  be  of 
use  to  a  teacher  of  Latin  grammar.  ^  Two  of  these  are 

'  First  published,  1929;  revised  editions  in  1935  and  1949.  See  also 
Miss  Byrne's  edition  of  Holyband's  French  Littelton  (Cambridge,  1953). 

2  It  is  mentioned  in  passing  by  E.  Fliigel,  'Ein  brief  Thomas  More's*. 
Anglia,  xiv  (1892),  p.  498. 

3  Following  the  vulgaria  (fols.  6z'^~j2^)  is  a  list  of  words,  phrases,  and 
short  sentences  in  English  and  Latin  similar  in  character  to  those  in 
Stanbridge's  vulgaria  (see  above,  pp.  x-xi).  Then  follows  a  collection  of 
model  letters,  evidently  imaginary,  in  English  and  Latin  (fols.  7 3 '"-80"^). 
Next  (fols.  8i'"-84^;  85^-87'')  is  a  group  of  real  letters  in  Latin  only, 
some  with  the  names  of  the  correspondents  given  in  full,  others  identified 
by  initials  only,  A  metrical  vocabulary  follows  (fols.  Zi^~90'^)  which  is 
in  part  identical  with  that  printed  with  Stanbridge's  vulgaria  (op.  cit., 
pp.  8-13).  After  this,  a  Latin-English  dictionary  ananged  topically 


XVI  INTRODUCTION 

recognizable  as  versions  of  works  ascribed  in  contem/ 
porary  printings  to  John  Stanbridge,  assistant  master  and 
master  at  the  Magdalen  School  from  1485  to  1494.  The 
volume  also  includes  a  collection  of  Latin  epistles  in 
which  Oxford  and  Magdalen  figure  repeatedly.  One  of 
the  letters  is  signed  'Your  H.,  however  insignificant, 
scholar  of  the  Magdalen  fellowship*  (*Tuus  quantulus/ 
cumque  h.  contubernij  magdalensis  scolasticus*).  Other 
letters  mention  or  were  written  by  Magdalen  School 
teachers:  Master  Martin  (usher,  that  is,  assistant  teacher, 
in  1498),  Lawrence  Hampton  (usher,  i499-'i502).  Bur/ 
way  (usher,  i502''4).^  There  is  correspondence  to  and 
from  a  Master  B.  Andrelinus,  Poet  Laureate,  who  is 
very  likely  Bernard  Andre,  Oxford  teacher.  Poet  Laureate, 
and  tutor  to  Henry  VII's  oldest  son.  Prince  Arthur.  The 
Prince  himself  is  mentioned  in  these  letters,  and  it  is 
worth  noting  that  he  resided  at  Magdalen  College  in 
i495/'6.  To  another  letter  in  the  collection  a  precise  date 
can  easily  be  assigned:  that  of  Thomas  More  to  John  Holt 
which  reports  the  arrival  of  Catherine  of  Aragon  for  her 
wedding  with  Prince  Arthur  in  October,  1 501.2  ^^ 
the  time.  More  was  resident  in  London  and  Holt  in 
Chichester,  but  both  were  Oxford  men  and  Holt  had 
been  a  Magdalen  School  usher  in  1494.  We  are  left  with 
the  impression  that  in  1501  or  not  long  after  the  Arundel 

(fols.  92^-9i^).  Fols.  94^-117^  are  taken  up  with  a  collection  of  Latin 
poems  by  the  Italian  humanist  Stephen  Surigono  who  taught  at  Oxford 
in  the  latter  part  of  the  fifteenth  century.  The  volume  ends  with  another 
grammatical  treatise  (ii8'"-i20^),  a  study  of  the  compounds  of  sum  and 
fero,  which  seems  to  be  a  draft  of  part  of  Sum,  es,fuf,  published  as  Stan-* 
bridge's  by  Pynson  in  15 15  (?)  and  often  reprinted. 

'  See  the  list  of  Masters  and  Ushers  in  Stanier,  op.  cit.,  p.  236. 

*  See  The  Correspondence  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  ed.  E.  F.  Rogers  (Prince^ 
ton,  1947).  pp-  3-4- 


INTRODUCTION  xvu 

manuscript  volume  which  includes  the  vulgaria  was  the 
property  of  a  teacher  who  was  then  or  had  been  associated 
with  the  Magdalen  Grammar  School. 

This  conclusion  fits  neady  with  the  evidence  provided 
by  allusions  of  the  vulgaria  itself.  A  reference  in  one  of  the 
exercises  (no.  379)  to  the  unprecedented  institution  of  the 
Yeomen  of  the  Guard  makes  it  clear  that  we  are  concerned 
with  the  reign  of  Henry  VII,  whose  innovation  it  was. 
The  same  passage  reports  the  decree  of  an  embargo  on 
trade  with  Flanders:  this  must  have  been  composed  after 
its  imposition  in  1493  and  before  its  lifting  in  1496.  Three 
passages  (nos.  381^3)  speak  of  an  extraordinary  deflation 
of  prices:  *I  think  there  is  no  man  alive  that  can  remember 
that  ever  he  see  wheat  or  peas  other  corn  or  any  other 
victual  that  is  brought  to  the  market  to  be  sold  cheaper- 
than  we  see  now.'  Such  a  statement  might  have  been  made 
in  1495,  or  conceivably  in  1499,  and  at  no  other  time 
during  the  reign  of  Henry  VII.  Another  exercise  (no.  ■ 
386)  tells  of  the  exploit  of  an  artisan  who  repaired  the 
weathercock  at  the  top  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral:  a  con/ 
temporary  chronicle  records  this  feat  under  the  year  1498. 
As  to  provenance,  references  to  Oxford,  Carfax,  Heading/ 
ton,  and  the  Castle  make  it  clear  that  the  boys  for  whom 
these  exercises  were  compiled  attended  a  grammar  school 
attached  to  the  university.  That  this  was  Magdalen 
Grammar  School  appears  most  probable. 

At  the  close  of  the  fifteenth  century,  the  Magdalen 
School  was  one  of  the  chief  centres  of  humanistic  studies 
in  England.  It  had  been  founded  as  part  of  Magdalen 
College  by  Bishop  Waynflete  about  the  year  1480  for  the 
express  purpose  of  fostering  the  neglected  discipline  of 
grammar,  by  which  was  meant  humane  letters.  (More, 
for  instance,  commenting  on  a  disparaging  criticism  of 

6773  b 


xvm  INTRODUCTION 

Erasmus  as  a  mere  grammarian,  declares  that  his  friend 
is  proud  of  the  title  because  it  designates  the  true  student 
•of  literature  and  therefore  of  all  knowledge.)^  Waynflete 
believed  that  grammar  was  the  foundation  of  the  entire 
academic  structure: 

Because  a  weak  foundation  destroys  the  work,  as  experience 
teaches,  and  as  we  understand  some  of  our  30  scholars  are  in  the 
habit  of  passing  to  logic  and  sophistry  immaturely  before  they  are 
sufficiently  instructed  in  grammar,  the  mother  and  foundation  of  all 
the  sciences,  we  therefore  order  that  none  of  them  be  admitted  to 
sophistry  [i.e.  dialectical  studies]  and  logic  or  any  other  science 
before  he  is  able  and  sufficiently  instructed  for  it  in  the  judgment  of 
the  President  and  the  Grammar  master.^ 

Teachers  and  alumni  of  Magdalen  School  almost  mono/ 
polized  the  production  of  textbooks  for  grammar  school 
use:  among  those  who  wrote  the  earliest  Latin  grammars 
printed  in  England  (and  in  English)  were  John  Anwy/ 
kyll,  John  Stanbridge,  John  Holt,  William  Lily,  and 
Robert  Whittinton.  Thomas  Wolsey,  master  at  the  School 
in  1498,  remained  grammarian  enough  even  at  the  height 
of  his  political  power  to  write  Rudimenta  grammatices  et 
docendi  methodus  (1528)  for  the  school  which  he  founded 
at  Ipswich.  Colet,  founder  of  St.  Paul's  School,  and 
Grocyn,  who  taught  More  Greek,  are  said  to  have 
lectured  at  Magdalen  College  at  one  time  or  another. 
And  it  was  probably  Magdalen  College  which  was  the 
home  of  the  greatest  grammarian  of  them  all,  Desiderius 
Erasmus,  during  his  visit  to  Oxford  in  1498  and  1499.^ 

'  In  a  letter  to  Martin  Dorp.  The  Correspondence,  pp.  3^-33- 

^  Translated  by  A.  F.  Leach,  The  Schools  of  Medieval  England  (1915), 

p.  270. 
3  H.  Rashdall,  The  Universities  of  Europe  in  the  Middle  Ages,  ed. 

Powicke  and  Emden  (Oxford,  1936),  iii.  231. 


INTRODUCTION  xix 

The  Magdalen  grammarians  were  not  merely  propa/ 
gandists  of  the  study  of  Latin;  they  laboured  with  earnest/ 
ness  and  ingenuity  to  make  that  study  easy  and  pleasant. 
The  very  title  of  Holt's  grammar,  Lac  puerorum  (1498), 
illustrates  their  attitude.  In  a  commendatory  epigram  (the 
earliest  of  his  writings  that  has  been  preserved)  More  says 
that  Lac  puerorum  is  a  well-oiled  gate  to  learning  that 
opens  at  the  touch  of  an  infant's  finger.^  The  effort  to 
make  grammatical  learning  as  simple  and  as  attractive  as 
possible  is  evident  also  in  the  textbooks  of  Anwykyll  and 
Stanbridge.  Colet  asked  Thomas  Linacre  to  prepare  a 
basic  grammar  for  St.  Paul's  School;  when  it  was  done  he 
rejected  it  on  the  ground  that  it  was  too  difficult.  Clearly, 
the  rejection  was  in  the  spirit  of  the  Magdalen  School. 

What  we  can  learn  about  its  author  from  the  passages 
in  the  Arundel  manuscript  vulgaria  identifies  his  attitude 
with  that  of  these  Magdalen  grammarians.  Humanistic 
studies  rouse  him  to  eloquence: 

Here  we  may  drink  of  the  pure  well  of  Latin  tongue  and  clo/ 
quence  [than]  which  is  nothing  fairer.  O  gracious  children  that 
wetteth  their  lips  therein!  (No.  73.) 

If  ye  knew,  child,  what  conceits  were  in  Latin  tongue,  what 
feats,  what  knacks,  truly  your  stomach  would  be  couraged  with  a 
new  desire  or  aifeaion  to  learn.  Trust  ye  me,  all  language  well  nigh 
is  but  rude  beside  Latin  tongue.  In  this  is  property,  in  this  is 
shift,  in  this  all  sweetness.  (No.  74.) 

And  he  firmly  upholds  Waynflete's  rule  requiring 
official  approval  for  the  transfer  of  scholars  from  the 
grammatical  discipline  to  logic: 

My  father  sent  yesterday  his  servant  to  my  master  for  to  labour  for 

*  Sec  The  Latin  Epigrams  of  Thomas  More,  ed.  L.  Bradner  and  C.  A. 
Lynch  (Chicago,  1953),  pp.  117-19. 


XX  INTRODUCTION 

me  if  he  could  bring  about  by  any  means  to  have  me  from  hence 
to  sophistry,  but  my  master  said  utterly  that  he  would  not  suffer  it. 
For  he  showed  that  there  could  be  no  greater  hurt  to  scholars  than 
to  take  them  too  timely  from  grammar,  but  then  it  was  time  when 
they  had  read  all  poets,  and  then  they  should  be  ready  to  all  manner 
of  study.  (No.  77.) 

The  vulgaria  author  is  not  ready,  to  be  sure,  to  discard  the 
traditional  grammar  textbooks  in  favour  of  the  new  works 
of  Italian  humanists  (no.  78).  But  this  conservative  hesita/ 
tion  is  not  to  be  construed  as  reaction.  Indeed,  in  two 
significant  respects  the  author  goes  beyond  what  can  be 
traced  to  the  Magdalen  tradition  to  anticipate  the  pro/ 
gramme  laid  down  by  Colet  for  his  new  school  of  St. 
Paul's.  The  elements  having  been  acquired,  the  student, 
Colet  urges,  should  'busily  learn  and  read  good  Latin 
authors  of  chosen  poets  and  orators,  and  note  wisely  how 
they  wrote  and  spake,  and  study  always  to  follow  them, 
desiring  none  other  rules  but  their  examples'.  The  boy 
is  to  learn  grammar  by  the  imitation  of  good  authors,  a 
few  only,  selected  for  excellence  in  expression  and  morality, 
for  this  process  'more  availeth  shortly  to  get  the  true  elo/ 
quent  speech  than  all  the  traditions,  rules,  and  precepts 
of  masters'.  In  this  reliance  upon  exercise  and  imitation 
at  the  expense  of  intensive  study  of  rules,  and  upon  close 
application  to  a  few  'chosen'  authors  rather  than  wide 
reading,  Colet  is  said  to  show  the  influence  of  the  essay 
which  Erasmus  sent  him  in  15 11  under  the  title  De  ratione 
studii^  But  as  the  following  passages  from  the  vulgaria 
show,  these  ideas  were  current  in  England  at  least  a 
decade  before  Erasmus  wrote  his  essay: 
I  have  ever  had  this  mind  that  there  is  nothing  better  nother  more 

I  T.  W.  Baldwin,  William  Shakspere's  'Small  Latine  &  Lesse  Greek' 
(Urbana,  1944).  i-  95-96. 


INTRODUCTION  xxi 

profitable  to  bring  a  man  to  cunning  than  to  mark  such  things  as  is 
left  of  good  authors,  and  I  mean  not  all,  but  the  best.  And  tho 
[i.e.  those]  to  follow  as  nigh  as  a  man's  mind  will  give  him.  And  he 
that  doth  this  beside  give  himself  to  exercise,  he  cannot  choose  but 
he  must  be  cunning.  (No.  8i.) 

Methinketh  thou  lackest  many  things  that  is  need  for  a  good 

scholar  to  have:  first  a  pennare  [i.e.  a  pen  case],  and  an  inkhorn, 

and  then  books,  and  yet  furthermore,  the  which  is  first  and  chief 

and  passeth  all  precepts  of  masters  and  all  other  doctrine,  as 

-exercise  of  Latin  tongue  and  diligence.  (No.  91.) 

It  is  at  least  possible,  then,  that  Erasmus  gathered  these 
elements  of  his  system  of  grammar  teaching  from  England 
rather  than  the  other  way  about. 

Since  the  author  of  this  vul^aria  was  a  perceptive  and 
sensitive  teacher  endowed  with  literary  talent,  a  sense  of 
humour,  and  the  ability  to  sympathize  with  the  minds  of 
his  boys,  he  succeeded  in  producing  a  convincing,  often 
delightful  picture  of  the  life  of  the  early  Tudor  period. 
His  extraordinary  variety  of  subject  matter  I  have  come  to 
appreciate  in  the  attempt  to  impose  a  topical  arrangement 
upon  the  passages.  The  schoolboy  and  his  concerns  are 
focal,  to  be  sure,  but  there  are  many  kinds  of  schoolboy 
and  their  concerns  include  the  large  world  about  them. 
A  mother  looks  at  her  son's  buttocks  to  see  if  he  has  been 
beaten  at  school,  a  young  man  dances  with  a  fair  lady  so 
slender  'that  a  man  might  have  clipped  her  in  both  his 
hands',  a  boar  hunt  is  ruined  by  ill/trained  dogs,  a  boy 
boasts  that  his  parents  will  send  him  impossibly  expensive 
oranges  and  pomegranates,  *if  there  be  any  to  be  sold',  a 
student  runs  so  fearfully  from  dangerous4ooking  shadows 
at  Carfax  that  he  slips  into  the  mire,  there  is  a  fireside 
conversation  on  a  windy  night  concerning  the  perils  of 
merchants  at  sea. 


xxii  INTRODUCTION 

Although  there  is  no  'typical  schoolboy'  in  these  pages, 
as  there  never  has  been  in  a  classroom,  it  is  possible  to 
extract  a  kind  of  composite  portrait  which  may  have  some 
representative  value.  Our  scholar  comes  of  a  wealthy  but 
not  a  noble  family:  his  marriageable  sisters  have  dowries  of 
twenty  pounds  each,  his  bedroom  at  home  is  hung  with 
painted  cloths,  his  father  has  been  elected  mayor.  In  his 
childhood  his  mother  pampered  him,  or  so  his  teachers 
believe.  He  began  his  education — and  underwent  his 
first  professional  beating — at  the  local  'absey'  or  primary 
school.  At  the  age  of  eleven  he  was  sent  off  to  Oxford 
where  he  now  lives  with  other  boys  under  the  care  of  a 
*creanser'  or  house  tutor.  His  parents  were  wise  to  put  him 
under  such  supervision;  some  of  his  schoolfellows  live  by 
themselves  in  rented  rooms  (despite  university  regulations), 
lose  such  money  as  they  have  at  cards  and  dice,  even  turn 
to  armed  theft  and  murder.  It  may  be  five  years  before  he 
sees  his  parents  again  for  the  roads  are  poor  and  the  thieves 
are  many.  But  he  writes  letters  to  them  if  a  friend  or  the 
carrier  happens  to  be  going  in  the  right  direction.  Some/ 
times  they  send  him  a  present  of  fruit.  If  he  is  lucky,  some/ 
one  from  home  turns  up  on  fair  day  and  buys  him  such 
requisites  as  a  penknife  to  cut  his  quills  and  keep  them 
sharp,  a  pen  case,  writing  tablets,  and  most  important  of 
all,  books.  He  loses  these  things  from  time  to  time,  or 
they  are  stolen. 

The  thought  of  food  is  never  far  from  his  mind.  His 
basic  diet  is  monotonous  and  meagre;  he  is  often  so 
hungry  that  he  is  tempted  to  take  more  than  his  portion 
or  to  steal  from  his  neighbour.  But  he  would  rather  eat 
poorly  with  his  fellows  than  fare  better  sitting  quiet  and 
well/behaved  with  his  elders.  Sometimes  he  is  lucky 
enough  to  dine  at  a  rich  farmer's  house  at  harvest  time,  or 


INTRODUCTION  xxiii 

at  a  bridal  feast,  and  then  he  stuffs  himself  with  goose, 
swan,  peacock,  pork,  and  venison,  with  plenty  of  wine 
to  wash  it  down.  The  pleasure  of  such  a  feast  is  enhanced 
by  boasting  about  it  afterwards.  By  modern  standards  for 
adolescents,  surely,  he  drinks  more  than  he  should  of 
wine  (when  he  can  get  it)  or  small  ale.  After  a  noble 
dinner  he  and  his  fellows  may  trade  blows  with  the  towns/ 
people,  and  he  occasionally  comes  to  school  in  the  morn/ 
ing  suffering  from  a  tender  stomach  and  a  heavy  head. 

Above  all,  he  hates  waking  before  dawn  on  winter 
mornings  and  sitting  down  to  hours  of  study  before 
breakfast,  but  if  he  doesn't  get  up  the  creanser  will  beat 
him,  and  if  he  doesn't  have  his  Vulgars'  written  his 
grammar  master  will.  Then  there  are  errands  to  run  for  the 
creanser,  so  that  the  boy  may  get  to  school  late,  his  work 
unfinished,  with  the  inevitable  consequence.  The  school/ 
master  and  his  assistant  are  kindly  enough,  but  they 
would  not  hurt  the  scholar  by  sparing  him  the  rod. 
Despite  the  ever/present  threat  of  beating,  the  boys  are  not 
as  well  disciplined  and  attentive  as  woodcuts  of  con/ 
temporary  classrooms  suggest.  The  Tudor  schoolboy  is 
the  possessor  of  the  great  legacy  of  shifts  and  tricks  which 
passes  from  one  generation  to  the  next,  and  though  the 
master  knows  about  them,  there  is  little  he  can  do.  As  for 
'custos'  (the  monitor)  it  is  often  possible  to  bully  him  into 
silence. 

Inevitably,  our  scholar  sides  with  his  fellows  against 
the  teachers,  and  he  giggles  gleefully  when  he  learns  that 
his  master  suffers  from  toothache.  At  the  same  time,  he 
has  caught  something  of  his  master's  enthusiasm  for  the 
glories  of  Latin,  and  he  has  begun  to  think  that  hard 
study  may  stand  him  in  good  stead  in  later  life.  His  master 
may  be  able  to  further  his  career;  either  for  that  reason  or 


XXIV  INTRODUCTION 

because  of  a  growing  respect  for  him  the  boy  strives  for  his 
good  opinion. 

School  is  not  all  study  and  evading  study,  of  course. 
There  are  many  holidays  and  vacations,  and  though  the 
master  thinks  there  are  far  too  many  he  can  sometimes  be 
cajoled  into  giving  the  boys  an  additional  bit  of  freedom 
on  a  warm  autumn  afternoon.  Archery  and  running  are 
the  chief  competitive  sports.  Hunting  the  hare,  fishing, 
and  stealing  apples  from  nearby  orchards  serve  both  to 
delight  and  to  fill  the  stomach.  There  is  occasionally 
entertainment  at  Oxford  Castle:  a  bear  baiting  or  a 
hanging  (the  boys  are  forbidden  to  attend  executions,  but 
they  do,  anyhow).  At  Christmas  time  there  may  be  a 
school  play,  in  Latin  or  in  English.  And  in  the  spring, 
the  boy  who  wakes  early  enough  can  'walk  by  the  wood's 
side  where  busy  birds  recordeth  their  sweet  lays,  every  one 
his  own'. 

The  English  prose  of  the  vulgaria  is  a  light,  natural 
vernacular,  colloquial  but  by  no  means  artless.  The 
author's  diction  and  sentence  rhythms  suggest  that  often 
he  thought  of  the  English  first  and  then  worked  out  the 
Latin;  it  is  at  least  hkely  that  imtiles  herhas  and  homo 
i^namssitnus  come  out  of 'weeds'  and  'jackanapes'  rather 
than  vice  versa.  At  the  same  time  he  was  cognizant  of  the 
demands  of  the  Latin,  else  he  would  not  have  written 
'my  uncle  on  my  father's  side'  (Latin,  patruus)^  'Pompey 
being  captain'  (Latin,  pompeio  duce),  or  'God  .  .  .  being 
conversant  in  earth'  (Latin,  deus  .  .  .  terris  comersatus). 
Perhaps  because  of  this  attention  to  the  Latin,  the 
English  sentence  structure  is  sometimes  obscure  or  awk/ 
ward;  it  is  less  easy  to  account  for  errors  in  agreement  of 
number.  Rhetorical  devices  are  used  freely,  though  not 
obtrusively.  Some,  like  'not  only  .  .  .  but  also',  are  in/ 


INTRODUCTION  xxv 

tended  to  suggest  Latin  equivalents;  others  are  employed 
because  they  make  pretty  English:  *I  was  first  fed  ere  I 
were  cled';  'though  I  have  leisure  to  say,  yet  I  have  no 
pleasure';  *if  you  be  hanged  thereto,  let  him  care  first  for 
me  that  first  shall  repent'.  The  vocabulary  is  neither  low 
nor  aureate.  In  the  notes,  I  have  pointed  to  a  number  of 
usages  which  antedate  the  earliest  recorded  in  the  Oxford 
English  Dictionary;  no  doubt  many  more  could  be  found. 
But  these  are  not  pedantic  constructions.  Words  of  Latin 
origin  are  used  freely,  so  too  are  native  proverbs  and  turns 
of  phrase.  It  is  fair  to  conclude,  I  think,  that  the  English 
passages  in  this  volume  echo,  as  closely  as  we  can  hope, 
~the  language  that  literate  folk  would  wish  to  speak  in 
early  Tudor  times. 

A  striking  feature  of  the  vulgaria  is  the  dramatic  quality 
which  pervades  it.  An  obvious  instance  is  the  beautifully 
imagined  soliloquy  of  an  eleven/year/old  suffering  from 
the  shock  of  immersion  in  grammar  school  life  (no.  i). 
Typically,  the  speeches  have  the  ring  of  the  freshly/heard: 

I  was  purposed  yesternight  to  speak  to  thee  of  a  thing  privily,  but 
today,  by  my  troth  and  if  thou  wik  believe  me,  I  cannot  tell  what 
it  was.  Lo,  what  a  wit  I  have!  (No.  306.) 

Sometimes,  by  a  technique  characteristic  of  the  theatre, 
the  speakers  are  made  to  reveal  their  own  weaknesses,  as 
it  were  unconsciously.  One  boy  indignantly  denies  having 
infringed  the  rule  against  keeping  pets: 

Would  it  not  anger  a  man  to  be  lied  upon  of  this  fashion?  They 
say  that  I  keep  a  daw  in  my  chamber,  but  iwis  they  lie  falsely  upon 
me,  for  it  is  but  a  poor  coney.  (No.  170.) 

Another  is  brought  to  regret  his  lack  of  generosity,  but  for 
the  wrong  reason; 

The  last  week,  there  was  send  me  from  my  country,  there  where  I 


XXVI  INTRODUCTION 

was  born,  200  wardens  [a  pear^-like  fruit]  and  as  many  pears,  and 
now  through  this  sharp  frost  every  third  pear  beginneth  to  wax 
rotten.  If  I  had  known  it  before,  I  would  through  the  departing 
them  amongst  my  companions  have  get  me  many  friends.  (No. 
219). 

It  is  a  short  step  from  speeches  of  this  kind  to  an  inter/ 
change  of  speeches  among  characters,  and  that  step  is 
taken  by  the  author  of  the  vulgaria.  Among  the  exercises 
are  passages  of  dialogue  which  might  have  been  Hfted  from 
the  script  of  a  contemporary  comedy  (see  nos.  3  3 1, 3  35).  I 
do  not  suggest  that  they  were.  But  these  exchanges  are  not 
mere  drawing/room  'conversations*;  they  involve  action 
and  acting:  a  boy  rubbing  his  aching  feet,  a  servant 
lugging  a  sack  to  the  mill.  We  have  no  way  of  knowing 
whether  or  not  they  were  acted  out  as  rudimentary  play/ 
lets  in  the  classroom.  If  the  author  of  the  vulgaria  was  as 
clever  a  teacher  as  he  seems,  he  would  not  have  missed 
the  opportunity. 

At  about  the  time  that  the  Magdalen  vulgaria  was  being 
compiled,  Thomas  More  was  studying  grammar — that 
is,  humane  letters — at  the  University.  His  two/year 
residence  is  said  to  have  begun  in  1492,  when  he  was 
fourteen  years  old,  but  the  date,  within  a  year  or  two,  is 
uncertain.^  There  is  no  reliable  evidence  to  show  which 
college  or  hall  he  attended,  nor  is  Magdalen  among  those 
which  have  put  forward  claims.  But  since  Waynflete's 
statutes  specifically  provided  free  tuition  in  grammar  for 
Oxford  students  of  whatever  college.  More  certainly  had 
the  opportunity  of  studying  there.  The  number  of  More's 
friends  and  acquaintances  who  studied  or  taught  at 
Magdalen  during  the  last  years  of  the  fifteenth  century  is 
remarkable.  The  list  includes  Grocyn,  Colet  (probably), 
'  R.  W.  Chambers,  Thomas  More  (1936),  p.  64. 


INTRODUCTION  XJtvu 

Holt,  Wolsey,  Whittinton,  Claymond,  Stokesley,  Lily, 
and  Lee.  The  last  two,  both  scholarship  boys  at  the 
School,  had  been  his  friends  since  his  early  youth,  as 
More  himself  tells  us,  and  it  was  before  1499  that  the 
adolescentulus  More  contributed  his  poems  to  Holt's  Latin 
grammar.  It  is  therefore  not  unreasonable  to  suppose  that 
young  More  may  have  been  set  exercises  in  translation  taken 
from  the  very  vulgaria  we  have  before  us,  or  from  one  like  it. 

The  late  R.  W.  Chambers,  to  whom  students  of  the 
early  Tudor  period  in  particular  owe  an  immense  debt, 
selects  as  the  distinguishing  characteristics  of  More*s 
English  prose  its  dramatic  quality,  its  humour,  its  col^ 
loquial  ease,  its  clarity  and  firmness  of  structure.^  These 
are  rare  qualities  in  writings  of  the  age.  Chambers  argues 
that  More's  vernacular  style  was  formed  by  fourteenth^ 
and  fifteenth/century  devotional  tracts  which  he  may  have 
read  at  the  London  Charterhouse  during  the  years  after 
he  had  left  the  University  and  was  thinking  of  entering  a 
religious  order.  But  it  seems  at  least  as  likely  that  his  style 
was  affected  by  what  he  learned  at  school. 

A  curious  detail  offers  a  link  between  Thomas  More 
and  the  Magdalen  vulgaria.  Among  the  exercises  is  a  bit 
of  dramatic  criticism  which  may  be  the  earliest  example  of 
the  genre  in  English: 

I  remember  not  that  ever  I  saw  a  play  \ludicrtim'\  that  more  de-' 
lighted  me  than  yesterday's.  And  albeit  chief  praise  be  to  the  doer 
[dMrfor]  thereof,  yet  are  none  of  the  players  to  be  disappointed  of 
their  praise.  For  every  man  played  so  his  parts  that  (except  him 
that  played  King  Solomon)  it  is  hard  to  say  whom  a  man  may 
praise  before  other.  (No.  no.) 

'  'The  Continuity  of  English  Prose  from  Alfred  to  More  and  his 
School*,  in  The  Early  English  Text  Society  edition  of  Harpsfield's  The 
Life  and  Death  of  Sir  Thomas  More  (1932). 


xxviii  INTRODUCTION 

The  phrasing,  while  logical,  is  at  first  sight  ambiguous; 
the  author  intends  to  say  that  it  is  possible  to  praise  above 
others  the  actor  who  took  the  part  of  King  Solomon 
(presumably  the  principal  role),  though  the  rest  were  good, 
too.  More's  earliest  extant  letter,  written  to  the  gram^* 
marian  Holt  in  1501,  is  found  in  the  Latin  epistolary 
collection  copied  into  our  Arundel  manuscript.  The 
The  letter  begins: 

I  am  sending  you  everything  you  asked  for  except  for  the  parts 
which  I  added  to  the  comedy  of  Solomon;  I  cannot  send  them  to 
you  because  I  do  not  have  them  in  my  possession. 

Considering  the  rarity  of  'comedies*  at  this  time,  I 
find  it  difficult  to  beHeve  that  these  are  two  different 
comedies  of  Solomon.  What  More  means  by  'parts' 
is  uncertain.  The  only  comedy  which  has  come  down 
to  us  from  the  reign  of  Henry  VII  is  Henry  Medwall's 
Fulgens  and  Lucres.  Medwall  was  chaplain  to  John 
Morton,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  Cardinal,  in 
whose  household  the  boy  More  served  as  page  before 
going  up  to  Oxford.  Medwall's  play  is  notable  for  the 
subplot  in  which  two  page  boys,  denominated  A  and  B, 
walk  on  the  stage  and  take  parts,  ostensibly  extempore. 
We  cannot  tell  whether  More's  reference  to  'parts'  in  his 
letter  to  Holt  concerns  such  a  subplot  or  a  development  of 
main  action  of  King  Solomon.  Nor  can  we  guess  whether 
More  wrote  the  whole  play  or  the  added  parts  only,  or 
whether  the  performance  seen  by  the  vulgaria  critic  in/ 
eluded  the  additions  or  not.  Perhaps  King  Solomon  will 
turn  up  some  day  in  a  manuscript  collection  of  interludes 
compiled  by  a  schoolmaster  of  early  Tudor  times.  It  is  not 
altogether  vain  to  hope  so,  because  we  know  that  such  a 
collection  was  contemplated.   Our  knowledge  derives 


INTRODUCTION  xxix 

from  another  letter  in  the  epistolary  group  which  includes 
More's  to  Holt;  the  correspondents,  unfortunately,  are  not 
named.  Although  the  letter  was  printed  (somewhat 
inaccurately)  as  long  ago  as  1892,^  historians  of  the  drama 
appear  to  have  ignored  it.  I  translate  the  relevant  passage: 

As  to  what  you  furthermore  write  to  me,  that  I  should  find  or 
acquire  for  you  interludes  or  comedies  in  English  or  in  the  vulgar 
tongue,  I  have  finally  acquired  them  by  the  greatest  exertion  of 
effort.  For  up  to  now,  they  are  rare  and  the  owners  of  them  are  so 
inconstant  that  to  exert  or  to  strive  with  respect  to  such  may  jusdy  be 
denominated  or  called  almost  a  vain  effort.  For  which  reason,  in 
order  that  I  might  satisfy  your  wishes,  I  have  with  assiduous 
exertion  of  effort  and  with  flattering  words  finally  softened  the  soul 
of  an  owner.  I  have  acquired  it  on  condition  that  as  soon  as  you 
-transcribe  the  original  you  will  then  return  it  to  me  so  that  I  may 
restore  it  to  the  owner. 

Erasmus  tells  us  that  Thomas  More  wrote  many 
comedies  in  his  youth.  The  letters  I  have  quoted  and  the 
enthusiastic  comment  on  the  comedy  of  King  Solomon 
in  the  vulgaria  exercises  suggest  that  interest  in  such  plays 
was  strong  at  Magdalen.  It  is  tempting  to  conclude  that 
More*s  comedies  were  written  for  performance  by  the 
schoolboys,  and  that  the  exceptionally  deHghtful  King 
Solomon  ('chief  praise  be  to  the  doer')  was  one  of  them. 

It  is  with  great  pleasure  that  I  express  my  thanks  to 
friends  and  colleagues  at  Columbia  who  have  helped  and 
encouraged  me  in  the  preparation  of  this  book,  among 
them  Professors  Marjorie  Hope  Nicolson,  James  Lowry 
Clifford,  Elliott  Van  Kirk  Dobbie,  Dino  Bigongiari, 
and  Edward  Semple  LeComte.  My  wife,  as  always  is 
essential  to  what  I  do. 

'  By  E.  Fliigel,  Anglic,  xiv  (1892),  498. 


NOTE  ON  THE  TEXT 

In  the  following  pages,  all  the  English  passages  in  the 
vulgaria  are  transcribed,  and  the  Latin  texts  of  three  of  the 
longest  ones.  The  order  of  the  passages  in  the  manuscript 
appears  for  the  most  part  haphazard,  although  successive 
pieces  are  sometimes  Hnked  by  similarity  of  subject/matter 
or  by  emphasis  on  a  particular  grammatical  construction. 
I  have  therefore  rearranged  them  according  to  their  sub^ 
jects,  following  Horman's  precedent.  The  categorical 
division  makes  no  pretence  to  logic;  it  may  serve,  how^ 
ever,  to  bring  together  passages  which  illuminate  each 
other  and  so  to  emphasize  the  value  of  the  vulgaria  as  a 
mirror  of  Tudor  England.  The  reader  who  wishes  to 
reconstruct  the  sequence  of  the  manuscript  may  do  so  by 
reading  the  numbered  passages  in  the  order  which 
appears  on  pp.  io$y6. 

The  speUing  and  capitalization  of  the  text  is  that  of  the 
manuscript,  with  certain  exceptions.  Word  division 
follows  modern  practice:  'never  the  less'  and  *to  day*  are 
printed  as  one  word;  'wylnot'  as  two.  Abbreviations  are 
silendy  expanded.  These  are  not  always  clear:  a  flourish 
over  the  last  letter  of  a  word,  for  example,  may  signify 
either  the  omission  of  *n*,  *m'  or  'u',  or  merely  the  exu/ 
berance  of  the  scribe  in  tailing  off  the  word.  When  the 
abbreviation  symbol  is  obviously  deliberate,  however,  I 
have  regularly  taken  note  of  it,  though  at  the  cost  of 
producing  such  uncouth  spellings  as  'cristenn  menn*. 
The  thorn  is  transcribed  as  *th'.  Current  usage  is  followed 
for  the  letters  *i'  and  j',  and  *u'  and  W  Since  it  is  some/ 


NOTE    ON  THE   TEXT  xxxi 

times  difficult  to  tell  whether  the  scribe  intended  a  capital 
or  a  lower  case  letter,  in  ambiguous  instances  (and  always 
with  *a'  and  *i')  I  have  capitalized  only  when  modern  usage 
requires  it.  The  punctuation,  including  paragraphing, 
quotation  marks,  and  a  few  apostrophes  (used  to  make" 
the  sense  clear)  is  my  own.  I  have  been  guided,  however 
by  the  pointing  of  the  manuscript.  Some  of  the  longei 
pieces  appear  in  the  manuscript  as  a  succession  of  short 
passages,  each  followed  by  its  Latin  translation.  I  have 
not  preserved  these  breaks.  Other  deviations  from  the  text 
of  the  original  are  recorded  in  the  notes. 

The  notes  are  designed  primarily  to  assist  the  reader  to 
understand  the  text.  Words  and  expressions  which  seem 
likely  to  offer  difficulty  are  explained,  often  by  reference 
to  the  Latin  text  of  the  vulgaria.  When  the  Latin  is  quoted, 
it  appears  in  italics.  O.E.D.  means  the  Oxford  English 
Dictionary',  when  it  is  followed  by  a  date,  the  date  refers  to 
the  earliest  usage  cited  by  the  Dictionary  of  the  given 
word  in  the  required  sense.  'Tilley'  stands  for  A  Dictionary 
of  the  Proverhs  in  England  in  the  Sixteenth  and  Seventeenth 
Centuries  by  Morris  P.  Tilley  (Ann  Arbor,  1950); 
O.D.E.P.  for  The  Oxford  Dictionary  of  English  Proverhs, 
second  edition,  1948. 

Short  glosses  appear  at  the  bottom  of  the  page.  The 
words  'see  note'  in  such  a  gloss  mean  that  additional  in^' 
formation  is  to  be  found  in  Notes  to  the  Text  (pp.  94- 
100).  An  asterisk  in  the  text  notifies  the  reader  of  a 
comment  which  appears  in  the  Notes  only. 


Donet  principium  deus  omnipotens  michi  ^ratum 
Et  melius  medium:  Jinem  super  omne  heatum. 


PASSAGES  FOR  TRANSLATION 
INTO  LATIN 


iMornins 


1.*  The  worlde  waxeth  worse  every  day,  and  all  is  turnede 
upside  down,  contrary  to  th'olde  guyse.  for  all  that  was  to 
me  a  pleasure  when  I  was  a  childe,  from  iij  yere  olde  to  x 
(for  now  I  go  upon  the  xij  yere),  while  I  was  undre  my 
father  and  mothers  kepyng,  be  tornyde  now  to  tormentes 
and  payne.  For  than  I  was  wont  to  lye  styll  abedde  tyll  it 
was  forth  dais,^  delitynge  myselfe  in  slepe  and  ease.  The 
sone  sent  in  his  beamys  at  the  wyndowes  that  gave  me 
lyght  instede  of  a  Candle.  O,  what  a  sporte  it  was  every 
mornynge  when  the  son  was  upe  to  take  my  lusty  pleasur 
betwixte  the  shetes,  to  beholde  the  rofe,  the  beamys,  and 
the  rafters  of  my  chambre,  and  loke  on  the  clothes*  that 
the  chambre  was  hangede  with!  Ther  durste  no  mann  but 
he  were  made^  awake  me  oute  of  my  slepe  upon  his  owne 
hede^  while  me  list  to  slepe.  at  my  wyll  I  arose  with  in/ 
treatese,  and  whan  th'appetite  of  rest  went  his  way  by  his 
owne  accorde,  than  I  awoke  and  callede  whom  me  list  to 
lay  my  gere  redy  to  me.  My  brekefaste  was  brought  to  my 
beddys  side  as  ofte  as  me  liste  to  call  therfor,  and  so  many 

'  forth  dais:  late  in  the  day;  see  note. 

^  made:  mad.  3  hcde:  responsibility. 

5778  B 


2-  MORNING 

tymes  I  was  first  fedde  or  I  were  cledde.  So  I  hade  many 
pleasurs  mo  besides  thes,  wherof  sum  be  forgoten,  sum  I  do 
remembre  well,  but  I  have  no  leysure  to  reherce  them  nowe. 
But  nowe  the  worlde  rennyth  upon  another  whele.  for 
nowe  at  fyve  of  the  clocke  by  the  monelyght  I  most  go  to 
my  booke  and  lete  slepe  and  slouthe  alon.  and  yff  oure 
maister  hape  to  awake  us,  he  bryngeth  a  rode  stede  of  a 
candle.  Now  I  leve  pleasurs  that  I  hade  sumtyme.  here  is 
nought  els  preferryde  but  monyshynge^  and  strypys. 
brekfastes  that  were  sumtyme  brought  at  my  biddynge  is 
dryven  oute  of  contrey  and  never  shall  cum  agayne.  I 
wolde  tell  more  of  my  mysfortunes,  but  thoughe  I  have 
leysure  to  say,  yet  I  have  no  pleasure,  for  the  reherse  of 
them  makyth  my  mynde  more  hevy.  I  sech  all  the  ways  I 
can  to  lyve  ons  at  myn  ease,  that  I  myght  rise  and  go  to 
bede  when  me  liste  oute  of  the  fere  of  betynge. 

2.  I  hade  an  hevy  hede  in  the  mornynge  when  I  sholde 
aryse  and  a  slepy,  and  if  I  myght  for  my  maister  I  wolde 
have  leyn  an  houre  more,  but  he  was  very  hasty  upon  me, 
for  he  never  seaside  of  cryenge  and  callynge  tyll  he  made 
me  arise,  but  I  remembre  when  I  was  wakyde  that  I  hade 
be  troublede  with  marveliouse  visions  in  my  slepe  and 
when  I  was  wakynge  I  hade  forgete  alltogethere. 

5.  The  wynde  blew  so  in  at  my  chambre  wyndowe 
tonyght  that  for  colde  I  coulde  not  slepe. 

4,  When  I  lake  slepe  in  the  nyght,  I  am  all  the  day  after 
gapynge  and  strechynge  for  luskyshnesse.^ 

'  monyshynge:  admonishing. 

^  luskyshnesse:  sluggishness  (^re  torpore). 


MORNING 


5.  It  is  X  of  the  cloke  every  day  or  I  ryse,  and  yet  I  washe  / 
my  handes  and  goth  to  church  and  I  am  as  redy  to  dyne  as 
thou. 


6.  It  is  pite  to  cheryshe  such  scolars  as  slepyth  styll  all  the 
mornynges,  takyng  no  thought  how  moch  tyme  thei  losse. 

7.  In  the  mornynge  erely  as  I  wakede  oute  of  my  slepe  I 
herde  a  myschevous  clape^  and  for  fere  I  lepe  oute  off  my 
bede  as  nakyde  as  ever  I  was  borne. 


8.  It  is  very  grevous  unto  me  thies  colde  mornynges  to 
aryse,  for  I  quaky de  today  for  great  colde  in  every  part  of 
my  body,  wherfore  if  I  myght  have  myn  owne  wyll  I 
wolde  not  cum  oute  of  my  bede  befor  the  sone  wer  upe, 
but  thies  werkydays  I  must  aryse  in  the  dawnyng  of  the 
day  whether  I  wyll  or  no. 

g.  It  is  a  worlde^  to  se  the  delectacioun  and  pleasur  that  a 
mann  shall  have  which  riseth  erly  in  thies  summer 
mornynges,  for  the  very  dew  shal  be  so  confortable  to  hym 
that  it  shal  cause  hym  inwardely  to  rejose.  beside  that,  to 
here  the  birdes  synge  on  every  side,  the  larke,  the  jais,  and 
the  sparowe,  with  many  other,  a  mann  wolde  thynke  he 
hade  an  hevenly  lyff.  Who  wolde  than  lye  thus  loterynge 
in  his  bedde,  brother,  as  thou  dost,  and  gyve  hymself  only 
to  slepe,  be  the  which  thou  shalt  hurt  greatly  thyself  and 
also  short  the  tyme  of  thy  lyff?  It  shall  cause  the  further/ 

'  myschevous  clape:  terrifying  noise. 
^  worlde:  marvel,  see  note. 


MORNING 


more  to  be  dull  and  voide  of  connynge,^  withoute  which 
lyfF  and  deth  be  both  onn/ 


tidbOf-KtS»^!KS»^fSylf'^itSiSftxS»-^itfb!^ 


10.  Nowe,  in  the  begynnynge  of  ver,^  when  all  thynges 
begyne  to  sprynge,  I  trust  I  shal  be  better  at  Ease  in  my 
body  than  I  am.  for  I  have  ben  dysheasede  a  grete  while 
in  my  stomake  and  in  my  hede,  and  phisicions  say  that 
the  cause  of  it  comyth  of  etynge  of  salt  fyshe  and  of  colde, 
and  therfore  they  have  forbydde  me  all  maner  of  salt  fyshe 
tyll  I  may  amende  agayne. 

11.  Nowe  herbys  begyn  to  aryse  and  trees  to  burgyn.  now 
fayre  wether  comyth  in.  now  byrdes  synge  merely. 

12.  These  colde  mornynges  byteth  the  tendre  herbys 
sharpely,  but  the  son  cummynge  anone  with  his  bryght 
beamys  confortith"*  them  agayne. 

15.  Mesemeth  this  Clowdy  wether  and  this  troubles  aiers 
do  not  agree  to  this  season  of  the  yere.  for  it  is  the  property 
of  the  moneth  of  Aprile  to  be  wyndye  and  wete  and, 
contrary  wyse,  maye  to  be  hoote,  clere,  and  fayre.  that  for 
because  it  happenyde  nowe  contrarye,  I  trow  the  monethes 
have  chaungede  their  Courses. 

^  connynge:  learning;  see  note.  ^  onn:  one;  see  note. 

3  ver:  the  spring.  *  confortith:  invigorates,  refreshes. 


THE   SEASONS  5 

14.  The  feldys  be  refreshede  wonderfully  with  thies 
showrys  and  the  come  areysith  hymselfF  hyer  and  the 
hegges  cast  oute  mor  larger  branches,  moreover,  the  woodes 
ar  coverde  with  a  thykker  lefF.  O,  what  a  pleasur  it  is 
nowe  to  ryse  betyme  and  walke  over  the  hylles  while 
thei  be  yete  sumwhat  moiste  with  the  mornynge  dwe,  or 
ellys  \yalke  by  the  woodes  syde  wher  besy  byrdes  re/ 
cordith^  their  swete  lays,  every  on  hys  owne. 


15.  The  feldys  that  in  vere  were  so  grenn  and  so  freshe 
with  diverse  flourys  thorughe  the  showers  of  aprell*  nowe 
lye  wetherde  and  chappyde  by  the  vehement  hete  of  the 
sone. 


16.  It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  be  in  the  contrey  this  hervest 
season  in  a  goode  husbondemanys  howse,  for  a  man  may 
fare  well  ther.  for  he  shall  lacke  no  Caponys,  Chekyns, 
nother  pygenys^  and  suche  thynges  as  be  brought  upe  in  a 
manys  howse,  and  beside  this,  if  he  lyste  to  walke,  it  is  a 
great  pleasure  to  se  the  Repers  howe  they  stryffe  who  shall 
go  befor  othere. 


ly.  Wher  the  great  Rayne  is,  and  the  contrey  sumwhat 
foule  of  hymselfe,  it  is  necessary  afore  wynter  to  amende 
the  ways  and  scope  the  gropys^  by  the  which  menn  goo  to 
the  goode  townes*  to  doo  their  Erandys. 

'  rccordith:  rehearse  (meditantur). 
^  pygenys:  pigeons. 
3  gropys:  ditches. 


6  THE   SEASONS 

18. 1  fere  me  lest  the  pleasure  of  somer  be  overpast  and  the 
faire  dais  goo.  for  methynke  the  colde  wynter  semyth  to 
cum  in,  with  his  company,  Rayn  and  Wynde.  but  this  I 
coulde  away  withall  and  take  it  well  at  worth^  so  that  yf 
the  storme  of  pestilence  were  seasede  thrugh  godys  mercy, 
which  that  it  may  be  sonner  brought  aboute  I  thynke  we 
moste  praye  (or,  I  thynke  best  to  praye). 


ig.  Upon  a  faire,  clere  nyght,  the  skye  garnyshede  with 
sterrys  oute  off  nombre  shynnyth  goodely,  whych  and  ye 
take  hede  ye  may  see  them  twynkle  as  it  were  a  candle  or  a 
tapre  brennynge,  and  emonge  them  the  moone  with  hire 
full  hght  goith  forth  by  Htell  and  litell,  glidynge  softly,  be 
not  thies  pleasant  thynges  ? 


20.  The  moste  part  of  this  wynter  my  handes  wer  so  swel/ 
lynge  with  colde  that  I  coulde  nother  holde  my  penn  for 
to  wrytt  nother  my  knyff  for  to  Cutt  my  mete  at  the  table, 
and  my  fete  also  thei  wer  arayde  with  kybblayns^  that  it 
grevyde  me  to  go  enywhere. 


21.  I  wondre  not  a  litle  how  they  that  dwell  by  the  see 
syde  lyveth  when  ther  comyth  eny  excellent^  colde,  and 
namely"^  in  such  costes  wher  ther  be  no  woodys,  but  as  I 
here  say  they  make  as  great  a  fire  of  torves  as  we  do  of 
woode. 

'  at  worth:  at  its  true  value. 

^  kybblayns:  chilblains;  see  note. 

3  excellent:  excelling. 

■*  namely:  especially. 


jfoob  anb  Brink 

22.  I  sawe  today  a  thynge  that  was  not  sen  befor,  that  is 
to  say,  quyke'  crabbys  and  full  of  spawne  brought  to 
towne,  the  which,  in  my  mynde,  is  a  disch  for  a  kynge,* 
and  of  all  fyshes  in  the  see  I  love  them. 

25.  I  suppyde  yesternyght  with  sum  of  my  cuntreymenn 
wher  we  faryde  well,  for  beside  rostyde  chekyns  and  other 
grosse  disshes  we  were  servede  with  swanys,  pocockes,  and 
venson,  which  is  not  accordynge  for  scholars  to  be  servede 
with  such  delicate  disshis,  for  it  is  selde  sean  that  they 
which  ffyll  their  belys  overmych  be  disposede  to  their 
bookys. 

2i\.  I  was  yesterday  at  a  bryde  ale  wher  we  faryde  well 
hardely,^  for  after  oure  frumenty,*  we  were  servede  with 
gose,  pige,  caponn,  pocoke,  crane,  swane,  and  suche 
other  delicates  that  longeth  to  a  goode  feste. 

25.  Iff  I  myght  do  the  eny  pleasure  therby,  I  wolde  shew 
the  of  a  great  feste.  yesterday  att  home  we  faryde  passynge 
dentely,  wher  ther  was  not  the  lest  in  the  house  but  he 
hade  plenty  of  venson  and  wyne.  ther  was  non  this  many 
a  day  that  hade  so  great  a  gyfte.  therby  thou  maist  know 
that  we  have  sum  frendes  in  the  worlde. 


26,  I  have  no  delyte  in  beffe  and  motyn  and  such  daily 
'  quyke:  live.  ^  hardely:  robustly  i^autt). 


8  FOOD   AND  DRINK 

metes.  I  wolde  onys  have  a  partrige  set  before  us,  or  sum 
other  such,  and  in  especiall  litell  small  birdes  that  I  love 
passyngly  well. 

27.  There  was  brought  today  to  my  maister  vi  dosyn  off 
denty  dysshis  that  were  not  lokede  for,  what  in  swanys, 
what  in  pocokkes  and  cranys,  all  other  small  disshis  sett 
asyde,  and  yesterday  as  many. 

28.  Thou  shalt  be  content  with  browne  brede  ande  smale 
alP  yf  thou  dyne  with  me. 

2^.  We  shall  dyne  today  with  wortes,  garlyke,  and  onyons. 
other  mete^  we  loke  not  fore. 

50.  Thou  wyll  not  beleve  how  wery  I  am  off  fysshe,  and 
how  moch  I  desir  that  flesch  wer  cum  in  ageyn.  for  I  have 
ete  non  other  but  salt  fysh  this  lent,  and  it  hathe  engen/ 
dyrde  so  moch  flewme  within  me  that  it  stoppith  my 
pypys  that  I  can  unneth  speke  nother  brethe. 

p.  Wolde  to  gode.  I  wer  on  of  the  dwellers  by  the  see 
syde,  for  ther  see  fysh  be  plentuse  and  I  love  them  better 
then  I  do  this  fresh  water  fysh,  but  now  I  must  ete  freshe 
water  fyshe  whether  I  wyll  or  noo. 

52.  Wolde  gode  I  coulde  kepe  myselff  as  well  from  other 
mete  or  drynke  or  surfett  as  I  can  kepe  me  from  pleasure 

^  all:  ale.  ^  mete:  food. 


FOOD  AND  DRINK  9 

of  my  body,  but  in  very  dede  I  have  so  gevyn  myself  to 
riott  of  mete  and  drynke  that  when  I  cum  to  ete  ther  is  no 
measure,  for  wher  I  thynke  to  syppe  I  drynke  upe  all, 
and  when  I  thynke  to  ete  but  a  litell  I  ete  upe  all  the 
measse.' 

5j.  Mesemyth  thou  hast  dronke  enough,  thomas,  when 
nother  thi  tongue  nother  thy  fete  wyll  serve  the. 

^4.  As  I  hauntede  ale  bowses  and  wyn  taverns,  I  have 
spende  all  the  money  that  I  hade  in  my  purse. 

55.  I  toke  a  surfFytt  yesternyght  with  late  drynkyng  of 
wyne  for  I  was  so  overcum  with  ofte  syppynge  of  the 
wyne  that  at  the  laste  I  coulde  scant  stande  on  my  fete  nor 
my  tonge  coulde  do  me  no  service,  for  when  I  spoke,  I 
stamberde  so  greatly  that  when  I  hade  utterde  eny  wordes 
I  was  greatly  ashamede. 

^6.  I  was  never  more  afraide  of  myselfe  than  I  was  yester/ 
day,  for  in  the  mornynge  whan  I  woke  my  hede  akyde 
that  methought  every  pece  went  from  other,  and  my 
stomake  was  overchargede  with  the  mete  I  ete  the  day 
before,  and  I  was  so  thirsty  that  methought  I  coulde  have 
dronke  an  hole  tune^  of  myselfe,  but  after  I  was  upe  and 
hade  walkyde  aboute  a  litell  I  was  ever  better  and  better, 
and  so  I  overcome  my  seknes  every  deale. 

^y.  It  is  a  great  pite  in  my  mynde  to  see  scholars  so  cor/ 
ruppede^  as  nowadais  be  reason  of  over  great  liberte  of  the 

'  meassc:  serving.       ^  tune:  tun,  cask.       ^  corruppede:  corrupted. 


10  FOOD   AND   DRINK 

which  sum  ther  be  that  sitt  bousynge'  and  drynkynge  so 
late  in  the  nyght  that  in  the  mornynge  they  be  so  slogguysh^ 
they  cannot  holde  upe  their  hedys.  And  sum,  contrary, 
use  so  immesurable  slepe  that  they  seme  to  take  hede  of 
non  other  thynge  except  mete  and  drynke,  the  which  they 
muste  nedys  have  to  suffice  nature,  thies  be  suche  as  ye  se 
swolne  in  the  face  and  holow  eyde,  with  pale  color  and 
bent,  fadyde,  rather  seme  to  be  apte  to  ber  a  tankerde  then 
a  booke  in  their  hondys. 


^8.  I  am  sory  that  herebefore  I  have  not  mesurede  me  in 
metes  and  drynkes,  for  I  cheryshede  my  mouth  so  that 
nowe  I  am  in  that  case  that  yf  I  provyde  not  a  remedy  the 
sonner  I  am  maride.^ 


5^.  Ther  be  sum  that  be  raveners  and  so  gredy  of  their 
mettes  that  their  bellys  can  never  be  fyllyde,  and  sum  be  of 
contrary  condicyons,  for  how  moch  soever  be  servede 
them  at  the  table  their  ey  is  never  fyllyde. 

40.  It  is  convenyent  for  a  scholar  to  refrayn  fro  surfetynge 
and  dronkenes.  fowll  it  is  to  shewe  how  sume  plaith  the 
ravenars  with  mete  and  overcummyth  themselff  with 
wyne,  ale,  and  here,  and  ther  is  non  of  us  all  but  we  ete 
oftyms  or"^  we  be  anhungrede  and  drynke  or  we  be 
athirst. 

^  bousynge:  guzzling.  ^  slogguysh:  sluggish. 

3  maride:  marred,  ruined  (actum  est  ie  me). 
/*  or:  before. 


FOOD   AND  DRINK  II 

41.  The  mete  that  I  myselfe  dide  roste  upon  the  gyrde/ 
yrenn  dide  me  more  goode  than  all  the  other  deale^  that 
we  were  servede  with  at  sopre. 


42.  I  have*  a  luste  to  breke  my  faste  betymes:  stekys  of 
motonn  wyll  serve  well  enoughe,  broylede  on  the  colys, 
sawsede  with  peper  and  vynegar  with  a  cope  of  goode 
reede  wyn  therto. 


4^.  I  marvell  thou  art  so  desiorous  to  drynke  in  mornynges 
before  brekefast.  In  goode  faith,  thou  hast  an  evyll  con/- 
dicioun^  which,  as  I  thynke,  wyll  brynge  the  into  seknes. 


44.  I  ete  damecyns^  yesterday  which  made  my  stomake 
so  rawe  that  I  coulde  ete  no  maner  of  fleshe. 


45.  An  honest  wyff  of  this  towne  desirede  me  to  drynke 
with  hire  yesterday.  I  fere  leste  she  take  it  for  unkyndnesse 
that  I  wolde  not. 


46.  I  have  poyntede  aboute  onn  of  the  cloke  to  mete  with 
a  cumpany  of  goode  felowes  iij  myle  hense  at  etynge  of  a 
hen,  on  this  condicioun,  that  if  I  kepe  not  the  houre  of 
poyntment  I  moste  pay  for  the  hen. 

'  deale:  portion. 

^  condicioun:  habit,  nature  (consmtudo). 

3  damecyns:  damsons. 


12  FOOD   AND   DRINK 

^7.  I  hade  apoyntede  yesterday  to  dyne  with  an  alder/ 
mann.  howbeyt,  I  was  disapoyntede  of  my  dyner  in  con/ 
elusion  because  the  houre  was  preventyde,'  and  afterwarde 
I  was  fayn  to  ete  coUoppys^  and  egges  in  the  stede  of  deli/ 
cates,  takynge  it  for  avantage  whatsoever  I  founde. 

48.  Ther  be  many  such  raveners  and  so  gredy  of  their 
mete  that  I  kepe^  not  gladly  to  sytt  at  the  table  with  them, 
for  when  ther  is  no  mete  lefte  in  their  owne  disshis  they 
wyll  snach  theire  felows  mete  oute  of  their  hondes  as  they 
sitt  aboute  them. 


49.  I  wyll  never  sytt  agayn  with  the  at  on  mease^  while  I 
lyfF,  and^  I  may  know  the  from  a  shepe.  for  thou  arte  a 
lurcher*  and  a  gloten.  lurchers  I  call  suche  as  devoure  all 
the  beste  musselys.^  Raveners  ete  all  that  comyth  before 
them,  or  the  most  parte,  thou  playst  sumtyme  the  onn, 
sumtyme  the  other,  and  I  forsake  thy  company  forever,  nor 
we  VV7II  never  drynke  together  agayne. 

50.  I  sytt  oftyn  tymes  emongest  them  at  melys  tyme  the 
which  be  of  more  dignite  and  worshipe  then  I,  wher  I 
may  not  speke  except  they  appose^  me,  but  I  hade  lever 
fare  hardely  and  sytt  emongest  my  companyons  wher  I 
may  be  mery  and  speke  what  I  wyll. 

5i.  William,  sett  the  mete  on  the  table  and  sytt  downe. 
I  love  not  so  moche  formalite.* 

'  preventyde:  previously  engaged  (preoccupata). 

^  colloppys:  bacon.  ^  kepe:  care.  *  mease:  mess. 

5  and:  if;  see  note.  ^  musselys:  morsels.  '  appose:  question. 


W))t  Pop  anH  6i£(  Jfamilp 

52.* — All  the  richest  menys  Childrenn  every wher  be  loste^ 
nowadais  in  ther  youghe  at  home,  and  that  with  ther 
Fathers  and  mothers,  and  that  is  great  pite,  playn.  but 
to  tell  youe  how,  trust  me  and  ye  wyll,  it  wyll  make  me 
wepe. 

— Nay,  ther  youe  passe  youre  boundes.  'But  all  for  the 
most  party,'  ye  sholde  have  saide.  I  knowe  many  on  my/ 
selfe  that  be  spede  right  well,  both  in  nurture  and  in 
connyng.  and  if  I  sett  them  emonge  the  best,  I  trow  I 
dide  no  mann  wronge.  But  what  the  devyll  eylith  me  to 
lete^  youe  of  youre  tale  i  ye  may  say  I  lake  curtesy,  and 
better  fedde  than  taught.  Say  forth,  I  pray  youe.  youre 
wordes  may  hape  to  turne  sum  man  to  goode. 

— The  mothers  must  have  them  to  play  withall  stede  of 
puppetes,^  as  childrenn  were  borne  to  japes  and  tryfuUys. 
thei  bolde  them  both  in  worde  and  dede  to  do  what  thei 
liste,  and  with  wantonnes  and  sufferance  shamfuUy  they 
renne  on  the  hede.'^  Forthermore,  yf  thei  hape  to  call  the 
dame  'hoore'  or  the  father  'cockolde'  (as  it  lockyth^  sum/ 
tyme),  thei  laffe  theratt  and  take  it  for  a  sport,  saynge  it  is 
kynde^  for  children  to  be  wanton  in  ther  youghe.  Thei 
holde  it  but  foly  to  put  them  to  scole,  trowynge  it  goode 
enoughe  whatsoever  thei  have  lurnede  at  hom.  thei  may 
not  furthe  them  bett,*  all  the  worlde  to  wyne,  for  and  thei 
sholde  se  them  wepe,  thei  wen  thei  were  utterly  loste.  I 
wyll  make  youe  an  example  by  a  cosyn  of  myne  that  [was 

'  loste:  corrupted.  ^  lete:  hinder.  ^  puppetes:  dolls. 

■*  on  the  hede:  headlong;  see  note. 
5  lockyth:  lucketh;  see  note. 
^  kynde:  natural. 


14  THE   BOY  AND   HIS   FAMILY 

sent]*  to  his  absey^  hereby  at  the  next  dore.  and  if  he  come 
wepynge  after  his  maister  hath  charede^  away  the  flees 
from  his  skynne,  anone  his  mother  loketh  onn  his 
buttockys  yf  the  stryppys  be  a^sen.  And  the  stryppys 
appere,  she  wepyth  and  waileth  and  fareth  as  she  were 
made,  then  she  complayneth  of  the  cruelte  of  techers, 
saynge  she  hade  lever  se  hire  childe  wer  fair  buriede  than 
so  to  be  intretide.  These  wordes  thei  speke  and  suche 
other  infinite,  and  other  while  for  the  childrenys  sake  ther 
begynneth  afray  betwixte  the  goode  mann  and  his  wyfFe, 
for  what  he  commaundeth,  she  forbyddeth.  And  thus 
in  processe  of  tyme,  when  thei  cum  to  age,  thei  waxe 
bolde  to  do  all  myschevousnes,  settynge  litell  to  do  the 
greatest  shame  that  can  be.  And  at  the  laste,  after  ther 
merites,  sum  be  hangede,  sum  be  hedyde;  on  goth  to 
nought  on  way,  another  another  way;  and  whan  thei 
cum  to  that  ende,  then  thei  curse  the  fathers  and  mothers 
and  other  that  hade  rule  of  them  in  ther  youghe. 


55.  Well  is  my  scole  felows  which  have  leve  to  go  se  ther 
fathers  and  mothers  to  sport  them,  as  for  me,  I  cannot  so 
moch  as  a  moment  departe  from  my  maisters  side. 


5^.  As  it  is  saide,  the  next  faire*  shal  be  kepte  here  within 
this  fortnyght,  and  then  I  wene  my  father  and  my  mother 
wyl  be  here,  and  yf  they  cume,  I  put  no  doubte  but  that 
I  shall  lake  nothynge  that  I  have  nede  off.  and  yff  they 
cum  not,  I  purpose  to  go  se  them  myselfFe,  for  I  spoke  not 
with  them  this  v  yere. 

'  absey:  ABCs,  rudiments.  ^  charede:  driven  away. 


THE  BOY  AND  HIS   FAMILY  15 

55.  When  I  Come  home  to  my  father  and  to  my  mother 
we  wept  for  joye  ych  to  other,  and  no  marvell,  for  the 
beholdynge  of  the  childe  confortes  the  olde  fathers  and 
mothers  as  moche  as  the  pleasant  wordes  of  the  fesician 
confortes  the  seke  body. 

^6.  It  is  acordynge  that  we  knoulege  that  we  ar  moch 
bounde  to  oure  fathers  and  mothers,  what  for  many 
thynges,  what  for  this  cheffly,  that  thei  have  purveyde  for 
us  the  best  maister  to  be  sett  to  as  sone  as  it  is  possible  for 
age,  fyndyng^  us  also  mete  and  drynke  and  clothe,  so 
longe  tyll  we  have  gotenn  the  connynge  that  we  have 
sought  with  moche  laboure  and  com  to  the  hyest  degre  of 
worshipe. 

57.  I  love  my  father  and  my  mother  best  of  all  the  worlde. 
howebeit,  thei  be  not  all  the  kyndest*  to  me. 

5^.  Except  my  father  and  mother,  ther  is  no  mann  that 
dothe  enythynge  for  me,  nother  kynsmann  nother  none 
other  body,  therfor  I  pray  gode  that  thei  may  lyve  longe, 
for  if  I  sholde  lyve  and  they  sholde  dye  I  sholde  lyve  a  pore 
lyff. 

5^.  The  gyfte  that  I  was  rewardide  with  this  day  from 
my  father  made  me  as  glade  that  no  sekenes  or  sorow  can 
make  me  hevy.  for  I  have  so  great  love  to  my  father  (as  a 
goode  childe  ought  to  have)  that  when  I  receyve  eny/ 
thyng  from  hym,  be  it  never  so  litell,  it  doth  me  more 
goode  then  mete  or  drynke.*  whom  because  I  cannot 
qwyte  in  dede,  I  wyll  pray  for  hym  whillys  I  lyve. 

'  fyndyng:  providing. 


16  THE   BOY  AND   HIS   FAMILY 

60.  My  brother  hath  writtyn  to  me  from  london  that  my 
father  and  mother  and  all  my  frendes  fare  well,  the  which 
letters  hath  made  me  right  mery,  for  why^  the  more  I  love 
them  the  more  I  rejose  ther  helth  and  welfar. 

61.  I  have  sent  a  letter  to  my  father  and  my  mother  for 
such  bookes  as  I  have  nede  of,  and  I  know  for  a  suerty 
that  as  sone  as  thei  be  delyverde  to  them  thei  wyll  ordeyn 
for  me  all  thynges  after  my  desire. 

62.  When  my  father  stode  for  the  maistershipe  of  the 
Towne  that  he  dwellith  in,  very  fewe  in  the  tyme  of 
th'eleccioun  were  agaynst  hym,  for  all  except  vij  or  viij 
at  the  moste  gave  theyr  voices  to  hym. 

6^.  My  father  hade  a  grete  losse  this  yere,  what  in  his 
bestes  and  what  in  his  corn,  for  C  of  his  shepe  dyde  of  the 
rott  and  hys  eyrs^  were  so  ranke^  that  it  was  thursf^  down 
to  the  grownde. 

64.  My  father  sent  my  brother  and  me  CC  wardens.* 
while  I  was  absent  my  brother  hath  chosyn  the  beste  and 
lefte  me  the  worst,  but  I  am  sure  my  father  wyll  sende  us 
pomgarnettes  other  orynges  yf  ther  be  eny  to  be  solde.  then 
I  shall  serve  hym  lykewyse. 

^5.  Commaunde^  me  to  both  my  father  and  my  mother, 
I  pray  the,  and  say  that,  if  I  fare  well,  I  shall  se  them 

^  for  why:  because.  ^  eyrs:  ears  (of  corn). 

3  ranker  gross,  swollen.  ^  thurst:  thrust. 

5  commaunde:  commend. 


THE   BOY  AND   HIS    FAMILY  IJ 

shortly.  I  praye  the  remembre  my  erande  and  delyver  my 
mother  this  token. 


66.  I  pray  youe  when  ye  go  to  oure  contrey^  that  ye  com/ 
mende  me  to  my  brother. 


6j.  A  great  while  after  my  brother  diede,  my  mother  was 
wonte  to  sytt  wepynge  every  day.  I  trow  that  ther  is  no-* 
body  which  wolde  not  be  sory  yf  he  hade  sen  hir  wepynge. 


68.  When  my  Father  was  in  this  worlde,  he  lovede  me  as 
hertely  as  eny  father  myght  do  his  childe.  Notwith/ 
stondynge,  to  my  mother  I  was  as  hatefuU  as  enythynge, 
but  never  thorugh  myn  offence  or  deservynge.  but  it 
hapenyth  many  tymes,  as  menn  say,  whom  the  father 
loveth,  the  mother  hateth. 


6g.  The  losse  of  my  mother  is  not  a  litle  unto  me,  namly 
the  which  hath  but  few  frendys  to  helpe  me  at  my  nede. 
but  yf  it  hade  fortune  me  to  have  sen  hire  before  she  dyede 
I  myght  have  bene  mery,  but  I  thanke  gode,  though  I  be 
a  motherles  Childe,  I  have  a  father  alyve,  and  yf  I  wantyde 
my  father  I  wote  not  how  I  shulde  lyve. 


JO.  I  am  not  only  sory  for  my  brother  but  also  ashamyde 
that  he  woU  never  leve  his  olde  unthrifty  condicions.  ther 

'  contrey:  district. 

6773  C 


<r- 


18  THE   BOY  AND   HIS   FAMILY 

is  nother  goode  exortacion,  nother  cownsell,  nother 
thretynge  that  he  settith  by,  but  settes  all  at  sixe  and  sevyn* 
as  though  he  sett  nother  by  custome,  nother  by  lawe, 
nother  by  hymselfF. 


'ji.  I  am  sende  for  home  to  the  mariage  of  my  brother,  for 
it  is  shewde  me  that  he  hath  lokede  for  me  all  this  moneth 
agonn.  but  because  he  deferrede  it  to  the  tyme  that 
I  myght  be  present,  he  wolde  have  be  weddide  iij 
monethes  afore,  howbeit,  I  wolde  not  gladely  be  present 
at  suche  festys  that  be  greatly  ordeynde  for. 


72.  I  have  thre  susters  mariable  the  which  my  father  hath 
gevyn  to  everych  xx  -^  to  their  mariage,  and  therfore  they 
shall  have  the  richer  woers,  for  nowadais  money  maketh 
mariage*  with  sum  menn  rather  then  love  or  bewtye. 


'*tS^-<it!tfr*)iS:Xr<s&ff'*iflt/^^ 


CJje  ^tubp  of  latin 

'j^.  Here  we  may  drynke  of  the  pure  well  of  latyne  tongue 
and  eloquence,  which  is  nothynge  fayrer.  O  gracious 
childrenn  that  wetith  ther  lyppys  therin! 


7^.  Iff  ye  knew,  Childe,  what  conseittes^  wer  in  latyn 
tonge,  what  fettes,  what  knakkes,*  truly  your  stomake^ 

'  conseittes:  conceits  (facecias).  ^  stomake:  spirit. 


THE   STUDY  OF   LATIN  19 

wolde  be  choraggyde^  with  a  new  desir  or  afFeccyon  to 
lurne.  trust  ye  me,  all  langage  well  nygh  is  but  rude  beside 
latyne  tonge.  In  this  is  property,^  in  this  is  shyfte,^  in  this 
all  swetnes. 


75.  It  is  an  hevy  case  that  Childernn  in  their  best  age  and 
metist  to  lurne  grammer  shall  be  take  from  yt  and  be  sett 
to  sophistre,*  wher  for  lake  of  the  on  they  shal  be  deceyvede 
of  both. 


•]6.  Ther  be  many  nowadays  goth  to  sophistre  the  which 
can  scant  speke  thre  wordys  in  latyn.  they  wyll  repent  it 
gready  hereafter  when  they  cum  to  parfyght  age,  for  after 
my  mynde  sophistre  is  not  to  be  comparede  to  gramere, 
but  sum  be  of  so  unstable  and  waveryng  mynde  that  they 
cannot  perseve  ther  profytt. 


'J'].  My  father  sent  yesterday  his  servunt  to  my  maistre 
for  to  laboure  for  me  yf  he  coulde  brynge  aboute  be  eny 
meanys  to  have  me  from  hens  to  sophistre,  but  my  maister 
saide  utterly  that  he  wolde  not  suffre  it,  for  he  shewde  that 
ther  coulde  be  no  greater  hurt  to  scolars  than  to  take  them 
to  tymely  from  grammer,  but  than  it  was  tyme  when  thei 
hade  redde  all  poetes  and  then  they  shulde  be  redy  to  all 
maner  of  studye. 

7^.  Ther  is  so  great  diversite  of  autors  of  gramer  and  of 
eloquence  that  I  cannot  tell  to  whom  I  may  inclyne,  for 

'  choraggyde:  encouraged,  inspired. 

^  property:  wealth,  fulness  (copid).       ^  shyfte:  refinement  (ek^ancia). 


20  THE   STUDY   OF   LATIN 

theis  new  auctors*  doth  rebuke  the  noble  dedes  of  them 
that  ben  before  them,  therfor  oure  myndes  be  plukkyde  by 
ther  and  thither.^  but  we  be  so  variable  and  wandrynge 
of  mynde  that  we  covett  the  newer  thynges  and  tho  thei  be 
worse. 

7^.  It  is  a  thynge  not  litell  to  be  caryde  for  in  what 
auctorys  a  childe  is  customyde  in  youghe,  for  then  the 
myn  of  a  yong  mann  is  as  waxe,  apte  to  take  all  thynge. 
whateamever  is  pryntede  in  hym  he  receyveth  it,  and  that 
that  is  first  receyvede  it  is  harde  to  forgett  it.  Wherfor  yf 
a  mann  or  a  childe  cane^  goode  auctoris  while  he  is 
yonge,  they  wyl  not  lightly  from  them,  and  yf  he  can 
evyll  and  barbarus,  they  wyll  styke  mor  by  them. 


80.  Wolde  to  gode  that  I  hade  spede  the  yeres  in  goode 
connyng  that  I  have  loste  lewdely  in  evyll  grammer! 

81.  I  have  ever  hade  this  mynde,  that  ther  is  nothynge 
better  nother  more  profitable  to  brynge  a  mann  to  con/ 
nynge  than  to  marke  suche  thynges  as  is  lefte  of  goode 
auctours,  and  I  mean  not  all,  but  the  beste,  and  tho  to 
folowe  as  nyghe  as  a  manys  mynde  wyll  gyve  hym.  and 
he  that  doth  this  beside  gyve  hymselfe  to  exercise,  he 
cannot  chose  but  he  most  be  connyng. 

82.  The  begynnynge  of  gramer  doth  well  with  the,  for 
thou  haste  thy  groundys  well  and  ornately,  goo  to  it  styll; 

I  by  ther  and  thither:  hither  and  thither.  ^  cane:  learn. 


THE   STUDY  OF  LATIN  21 

thou  shake  overcum  it,  for  the  begynnynge  of  every  thynge 
is  the  hardiste,  the  which  if  a  man  can  well  he  shall  lightly 
overcum  that  folouth.  and  therfor  methynke  it  was  a 
noble  sayng  of  Aristotle:  Begynnynge  is  more  than  halfe 
the  worke.* 


8j.  I  knowe  that  thou  hast  thy  groundes  of  Elygansies* 
right  well,  therfor,  go  to  it  styll  and  thou  shalt  sone  gete 
all  that  ever  folows.  ther  is  nothynge,  methynkyth,  thou 
lackith  nowe  for  to  cum  unto  the  best  but  only  often 
and  diligent  exercise  the  which  noryshith  eloquence  mer/ 
velously  moche. 

84.  They  ar  happy,  mesemyth,  that  upon  the  begynnynge 
of  ther  abses  have  hapynede  upon  goode  maisters.  for  if 
thei  fro  thensforth  contynewe  as  thei  have  begune,  luk/ 
kynge^  alway  upon  goode  maisters  acordynge  after  the 
diversite  of  connynge  to  be  lurnede,  and  therselfe  lurnynge 
with  as  goode  a  diligence  as  thei  be  tought,  withoute 
double,  yf  thei  shall  want  no  wytt,  thei  shall  prove  within 
few  yeres  excellently  connynge. 

6*5.  Methynke  a  gramaryon  dothe  quyte  hym  well,  go  he 
never  so  well  to  his  booke,  yf  he  be  well  spede  in  ij  or 
iij  yer. 

86.  We  have  not  loste  a  litell  tyme  the  which  have  gone 
to  grammer  iij  hole  yere  and  yete  we  can  scant  the 
principuls.^ 

'  lukkynge:  happening.  *  principuls:  rudiments. 


22  THE   STUDY   OF   LATIN 

^7.  Iff  I  hade  not  usede  my  englysh  tongue*  so  greatly,  the 
which  the  maistre  hath  rebukede  me  ofte  tymes,  I  shulde 
have  ben  fare  more  lighter  (or,  conyng)  in  grammer.  wis 
men  saye  that  nothyng  may  be  more  profitable  to  them 
that  lurns  grammer  than  to  speke  latyn. 

88.  He  that  is  contynually  occupyde  in  wrytynge  letters* 
it  is  no  doubte  but  at  the  laste  he  shal  be  very  connynge. 

8^.  The  last  feir  my  unkle  on  my  fathers  syde  gave  me  a 
pennare^  and  an  ynkehorne  and  my  unkle  of  my 
mothers  syde  gave  me  a  penn  knyff.  now,  and  I  hade  a 
payre  of  tabullys^  I  lakkyde  nothynge. 

^0.  It  is  no  mastry  for  youe  the  which  have  bookes  inowe 
and  cunnynge  men  to  tech  youe  to  gete  cunnynge,  for 
methynke  and  I  hade  half  the  bookes  that  ye  have  I 
wolde  son  be  a  cunnyng  felow. 

pi.  Methinkith  thou  lackest  many  thynges  that  is  nede 
for  a  goode  scolar  to  have:  first,  a  pennar  and  an  ynke^ 
home,  and  then  bookes,  and  yet  furthermore,  the  which  is 
first  and  cheff  and  passeth  all  preceptes^  of  maisters  and 
all  other  doctrine,  as  exercise  of  latyn  tongue  and  diligence. 

^2.  Iff  I  may  speke  with  thi  frendes*  ons,  I  wolde  consell 
them  to  by  the  bookes  to  lurne  with,  for  it  is  pite  to  se  the 
spende  thi  tyme  about  nought. 

'  pennare:  pen  case.  ^  tabuUys:  writing  tablets. 

3  preceptes:  grammatical  rules. 


THE   STUDY   OF   LATIN  23 

g^.  Iff  the  bookys  of  olde  auctours  were  not  corrupt  and 
sum  of  them  fals,*  I  wolde  not  doubte  that  men  now  in  this 
tyme  sholde  overpasse  them  or  els  be  equall  with  them, 
for  mennys  wyttes  be  as  goode  now  as  they  were  then. 

g/^.  —  Code  spede,  praty^  childe! 

—  and  youe  also. 

—  I  know  that  ye  have  lurnede  youre  grammer,  but 
wher,  I  pray  youe  ? 

—  by  my  faith,  sum  at  wynchester,*  sum  in  other  places. 

—  And  I  am  an  Oxforde  man.  woU  youe  we  shall 
assay  how  we  cann  talke  in  latyn  ? 

—  yee,  for  gode,  ryght  fayne! 


P5.  Put  off  shortely  that  longe  hevy  gowne  and  have  a 
lyghter,  and  lete  us  go  to  hedynton*  grove  and  ther  we 
shall  have  an  hare  stert.  Why  standist  thou  styll  >  Se  how 
the  wether  lokyth  up  lustely  agayne  oure  jorneye. 

g6.  Bende  youre  bowe  and  showte^  with  me.  lete  us  prove 
whether  of  us  be  the  better  archer.  I  can  tell  wher  is  a 
paire  off  buttes  made  off  new  turvys.  Shall  we  goo  thether? 

gj.  I  trow  ther  be  never  onn  here  that  hath  more  delyte  in 

'  praty:  pretty  =  witty,  clever  (scite).  ^  showte:  shoot. 


24  SPORTS,   GAMES,  AND  HOLIDAYS 

fyshynge  than  I.  for  after  I  am  gotyn  onys  oute  of  the  dorys, 
all  my  diligence  is  to  make  me  redy  to  the  water  side. 

g8.  I  and  my  brother  dide  spende  all  yesterday  in  fysshynge 
for  because  nother  he  nor  I  ete  nothynge  this  day  but 
fyssh  and  whitt  mete,^  but  yete  we  labourede  in  vayne  for 
we  toke  not  onn  fysshe. 

^g.  It  is  a  goode  sporte  when  the  snowe  lyeth  thyke  onn 
the  grounde  to  take  byrdes  wyth  lyme. 

100.  Methynke  it  is  a  worlde  to  hunt  the  hare  with 
gravandes^  while  the  snowe  coverith  the  grounde,  for 
now  she  cannot  lightly  skape  the  dogges  mowthe,  and 
sone  a  man  may  trace  hire  to  the  forme^  wher  she  is 
squatt,4  wher  in  another  wether  a  man  may  hunt  all  day 
and  yete  fynde  not  an  heyr  of  hire. 

101  *  All  the  yonge  folkes  of  oure  house  went  to  the  wode 
yesterday  because  they  wolde  hunt  the  hare,  and  as  it 
happynde  a  woman  mett  them  berynge  betwen  hire 
armys  many  childernn,  and  onn  toke  away  the  fairest 
childe  that  she  hade. 


102.  This  day,  erly  in  the  mornynge,  about  thre  of  the 
cloke,  myn  oste  and  his  neghbers  went  to  the  woode  to 

^  whitt  mete:  dairy  produce  (hcticmia). 

^  gravandes:  greyhounds;  see  note. 

3  forme:  nest.  ^  squatt:  crouched. 


SPORTS,   GAMES,  AND  HOLIDAYS  2$ 

kyll  the  wylde  boore  that  men  say  is  ther,  they  with  ther 
currys  and  mastyffes  and  he  with  his  greyhowndes  and 
spanyelles.  I  pray  gode  prosper  that  that  they  goo  about, 
and  tomorow  I  wyll  tell  youe  how  they  spedde.  .  .  . 

Yesterday,  I  promysede  that  I  wolde  tell  youe  how  the 
hunters  dide  spede.  herkyn  a  litle  and  I  wyll.  as  sone  as 
they  were  cum  to  the  woode  and  hade  sett  on  their  dogges 
for  to  take  the  bore,  streightways*  every  on  of  them  faught 
so  sore  with  another  that  it  was  very  harde  for  the 
maisters  to  depart  them. 


103.  I  was  yesterday  at  a  noble  fest  wher  I  saw  grete  wast'^ 
of  mettes  and  drynkes,  and  as  sone  as  we  hade  dynde  we 
were  commaunde  every  mann  be  course  to  lede  the  daunce, 
and  I  ledde  a  fair  woman  by  the  honde  that  was  so  small^ 
that  a  man  myght  a  cleppyde^  hire  in  both  his  hondys. 


104.  They  do  wysely  that  sende  no  Children  to  the  uni/ 
versite  but  thei  put  them  undre  Creansers"^  to  have  the 
rule  of  them  and  of  their  money,  for  yf  they  wer  not  so 
ordeynde,  they  sholde  waste  all  their  money  att  dysse  and 
Cardys  in  Cristmas  tyme. 


10^.  It  is  the  guyse  of  all  cristenn  menn  this  day  solemly 
to  praye,  fast,  and  go  in  procession,  as  well  uplonde^  as  in 
the  towne.  so  shall  they  do  tomorowe  and  the  nexte  day. 

'  wast:  abundance  (luxuriam).  ^  small:  slender. 

^  cleppyde:  embraced. 

•*  Creansers:  house  masters;  see  introduction  p.  xxii. 

5  uplonde:  in  the  country. 


26  SPORTS,   GAMES,   AND   HOLIDAYS 

Parishyns^  mete  eche  other,  and  if  they  fynde  eny  crose  by 
the  way,  ther  thei  tary  anone.  after  the  gospel!  is  done, 
thei  fall  to  ther  metes  that  the  wyfFys  brought  from  home 
for  the  nonys. 

106.  Tomorow  ye  shall  se  many  menn  go  to  the  woode 
and  cum  home  with  grene  bowys  on  ther  sholders.* 

10 J.  —  Art  thou  not  wery  of  thies  holydays? 

—  truly  I  am  wery,  and  specially  so  many  togedre,  for 
I  do  not  only  lesse^  moch  cunnyng  but  also  I  wast  awaye 
moch  money  in  them. 

108.  Ther  is  more  discontenuance,  I  trowe,  in  Oxforde 
then  in  eny  other  universite.  for  it  hath  ben  nowe  a  moneth 
togedre  that  no  scole  hath  be  kept,  and  after  the  comyn 
worde  they  call  this  tyme  vacacioun,  and  that  not  amysse, 
for  many  men  that  tyme  levyth  all  studyes*  and  gevyth 
them  alltogedre  to  sportes  and  plays. 


log.  I  understande  ther  was  a  litle  stryfFin  the  towne  the 
laste  nyght.  gode  gyve  grace  that  no  mann  be  hurte  ther, 
for  I  fere  greatly,  and  specially  because  that  many  after 
such  great  festes  lesse  their  wyttys  other  whillys. 

110.^  I  remembre  not  that  ever  I  sawe  a  play^  that  more 
delityde  me  than  yesterdays,  and  allbeit  chefe  prayse  be  to 

^  Parishyns:  parishioners.  ^  lesse:  lose. 

3  play:  comedy  (ludkrum). 


SPORTS,   GAMES,   AND   HOLIDAYS  2? 

the  doer^  therof,  yete  ar  none  of  the  players  to  be  dis>' 
apoyntede  of  ther  praise,  for  every  mann  plaide  so  his 
partes  that,  except  hym  that  plaide  kynge  Salomonn,  it  is 
harde  to  say  whom  a  mann  may  praise  before  other. 


111.  All  the  yonge  folkes  almoste  of  this  towne  dyde 
rune  yesterday  to  the  castell*  to  se  a  here  batyde  with  fers 
dogges  within  the  wallys.  It  was  greatly  to  be  wondrede, 
for  he  dyde  defende  hymselfe  so  with  hys  craftynes  and  his 
wyllynes  from  the  cruell  doggys  methought  he  sett  not  a 
whitt  be  their  woodenes^  nor  by  their  fersnes. 


112.  It  was  a  worlde  to  se  at  thyes  last  gamys,  but  a 
myle  hense,  to  beholde  the  shoters  and  renners,  of  the 
which  sum,  I  doubte  not,  were  very  glade,  and  namely^  they 
which  bare  away  the  best  gamys,'^  and  sum  were  sory  and 
ashamede,  namely  they  which  went  home  agayne  with/ 
oute  eny  rewarde  wher  they  hade  hopyde  themselff  befor 
to  have  bene  worthye  the  best  gamys. 


ijj.  Yesterdaye,  I  departyde  asyde  prively  oute  of  the* 
feldys  from  my  felows  and  went  be  myselfe  into  a  manys 
orcherde  wher  I  dyde  not  only  ete  rype  apples  my  bely  full 
but  I  toke  away  as  many  as  I  coulde  here. 

'  doer:  author  (auctori).  ^  woodenes:  madness. 

3  namely:  especially. 

•*  best  gamys:  highest  prizes  (di^tiissima  premia). 


i:fie  pop,  ^i^  Mn^ttt,  anb 

114.*  —  why  comyst  thou  hither  J 

—  to  se  youe. 

—  whom,  me  ? 

—  yee,  the. 

—  and  wyll  thou  do  nothynge  ellys  ? 

—  yes,  I  cum  also  to  lurne. 

—  what  wylt  thou  lurne  J 

—  to  speke  latyn,  to  wryte  right,  and  understonde  all 
such  thynges  as  be  written  allredy. 

—  ye  say  well. 

—  but  I  say — 

—  what  ? 

—  lurne  thei  with  youe  withoute  betynge  or  nay  ? 

—  sum  on  ways,  sum  another;  sum  with  betynge,  sum 
with  fairnesse. 

—  but  what  meanys  shall  I  use  to  lurne  withoute  be-' 
tynge  ?  for  I  fere  the  rodde  as  the  swerde. 


11^.  —  Gentle  maister,  I  wolde  desire  iij  thynges  of  you: 
onn  that  I  myght  not  wake  over  longe  of  nyghtes,  another 
that  I  be  not  bett  when  I  com  to  schole,  the  thirde  that 
I  myght  ever  emong^  go  play  me. 

—  Gentle  scholar,  I  wolde  that  ye  shulde  do  iij  other 
thynges:  onn  that  ye  ryse  betyme  off  mornynges,  another 
that  ye  go  to  your  booke  delygently,  the  thirde  that  ye 
behave  yourselff  agaynst  gode  devoutely,  all  menn  honestly, 
and  then  ye  shall  have  youre  askynge. 

^  ever  emong:  from  time  to  time. 


THE    BOY   AND    HIS  MASTER  29 

116.  Felow,  I  besech  the  hertely  to  kepe  oure  counsell  lest 
the  maister  know  how  unthriftely  we  myspent  oure  tyme 
yesterday,  for  yff  he  may  know  he  wyl  be  verey  angrye  and 
not  withoute  a  cause. 


11  J.  It  is  known  or  opyn  that  thou  dydist  this  thynge. 
therfor  say  not  nay,  for  than  thou  shalt  dubble  thy  payn. 
for  ye  shal  not  displease  our  master  sonner  then  yf  ye  wyll 
hyde  your  trespas  (or  elles,  yf  ye  wyl  not  be  known  of 
your  mysdoynge). 

118.  We  yonge  grammaryons  most  labor  with  all  oure 
myght  to  please  oure  maister  lest  he  be  angry  and  avenge 
his  anger  upon  us. 

11^.  Felows,  what  is  youre  mynde?  ar  ye  glade  that  the 
maister  is  recoverde  of  totheache?  whatsumever  ye  thynke 
in  youre  mynde,  I  knowe  my  mynde.  withoute  doubte, 
and  I  were  a  riche  mann  I  wolde  spende  a  noble*  worth 
of  ale  emonge  goode  gosseps  so  that  he  hade  be  vexede  a 
fortnyght  longer. 

120.  It  were  better  to  eny  of  us  all  to  be  dede  than  to  sufFre 
suche  thynge  as  the  maister  hath  sufTeryde  these  iij  dais 
agone  in  the  totheache.  forsoth,  I  know  full  well  that  [he]* 
myght  nother  ete  nother  drynke.  and  if  I  sholde  not  lye, 
I  trowe  he  myght  not  slepe  nother  day  nother  nyght. 

121.  Felows,  be  gode  I  myght  not  chose  but  I  muste 
nedes  wepe  when  oure  maister  was  now  laste  from  home. 


30  THE   BOY,   HIS   MASTER,   AND 

but  have  truste  to  my  wordes,  I  dide  it  more  for  joye  than 
for  sorowe,  and  not  withoute  a  cause,  for  and  he  hade 
byde  here  it  shulde  have  repent  me  sore. 


122.  YfFther  be  eny  of  my  felows  that  love  not  my  maister, 
I  confesse  that  I  am  on. 


125.  —  Thorughe  thyne  owne  fawte  thou  hast  made  thy^ 
selfe  oute  of  conseyte  with  thy  maister.  wher  that  afore 
thou  were  ever  cheffe  with  hym  and  myght  do  moche  and 
most  in  favour,  nowe  thou  art  nought  sett  by  and  nothynge 
can  do  for  thyselfe  nother  for  thy  frendes. 

—  for  he  hath  suche  flaterers  aboute  hym,  the  which  he 
taketh  great  hede  to.  for  [their]*  owne  profytt  thei  be  glade 
that  thei  be  in  favor  with  hym,  and  they  be  glade  that 
I  am  oute  of  conseyt  with  hym. 


12^.  —  As  fare  as  I  can  perceyve  by  my  maisters  wordes, 
he  purposeth  to  go  into  the  contrey  for  ij  or  iij  days  wher 
he  woU  sport  hym  and  make  mery.  In  the  mean  season, 
yf  thou  wolt,  we  may  have  licence  to  cum  and  speke 
togedre  and  do  all  thynges  that  please  us.  we  have  no 
nede  to  drede. 

—  but  peradventure  he  woU  fayn^  sumthynge  to  brynge 
us  in  a  foolys  predicament. 


125.  We  hade  better  to  have  benn  hangyde  than  to  have 
servede  oure  olde  maister  suche  a  touche.^ 

'  fayn:  feign,  pretend.  ^  touche:  sly  or  mean  trick  (facimi). 


HIS   MASTER  S   ROD  31 

126.  Some  thynke  themselfe  to  olde  and  to  great  to  be 
bett  with  the  rodde,  and  I  holde  well  with  them,  yf  their 
condicions  wer  accordynge  to  their  stature,  howebeit, 
when  I  came  first  to  this  universite,  ther  was  no  difference 
in  correccyon  betwenn  great  and  small,  as  all  thynges  in 
processe  of  tyme  dekeyth,  so  goode  rule  gothe  bakewarde. 


12J.  After  my  jugement,  on  ought  not  to  be  favoryde  more 
then  another  in  a  gramar  schole,  but  every  man  muste  be 
servede  after  his  meryttes.  thei  that  take  hede  diligently 
to  their  bookys  must  be  favoryde  or  [prasyde]*  and  thei 
that  do  evyll  most  be  punyshide. 


128.  I  muste  nedys  marvell  of  the  condicioun  of  sum  of 
my  felows,  for  whatsoever  maistre  they  fortune  to  have 
they  be  never  content,  for  they  disdeyne  to  be  undre,  but 
ever  I  have  thought  to  obey  hym,  whatsoever  maistre  he 
fortune  to  be. 


I2g.  It  is  not  to  be  marvelede  thoughe  my  maister  be  not 
riche,  for  he  hath  a  great  householde  and  a  free.'  and  also 
he  hath  every  day  straungers  and  gestes  with  hym,  and  at 
the  leste  wey  he  dyneth  with  vj  or  vij  denteth^  dishes,  yet 
he  is  no  etar  hymselfe,  for  oftentymes  thei  begyne  to  soupe 
before  he  sitt  down,  and  sitt  styll  when  he  is  gone. 


1^0.  Maister,  I  marvell  greatly  that  ye  be  so  importune 
unto  me.  I  trowe  I  never  deservede  it.  therfore,  I  do  not  all 

'  free:  liberal.  ^  denteth:  dainty  {O.E.D.,  s,v.  'dainteth'). 


32  THE   BOY,   HIS   MASTER,   AND 

only  monyshe  youe,  but  also  I  exorte  and  praye  youe  that 
ye  wolde  be  goode  frende  to  me.  and  if  ther  be  eny  thynge 
in  me  that  ye  have  nede  of  ye  shall  fynde  me  redy  att  all 
tymes. 


1^1.  Who  callith  me?  what,  youe,  master?  here  am  I  redy 
to  do  eny  thynge  that  ye  woll  commaunde  me. 


1^2.  I  laboure  and  enforce  as  moche  as  I  can  to  please  the 
maister  in  all  thynges.  the  which,  if  I  may  bryng  it  aboute, 
I  shall  not  do  to  hym  so  great  a  pleasure  as  to  myselfe,  for 
ther  is  no  mann  to  whom  I  am  more  beholde  to.  how/ 
beit,  he  doth  nothynge  for  me  for  nought,  but  he  of  my 
father  shall  have  rewardys  accordynge  to  hys  labours. 


1^^.  My  maister  hath  promysede  to  do  for^  me  if  it  lye 
ever  in  hys  power,  and  so  hath  he  donn  now,  that  yf 
I  spende  my  lyfF  for  his  worshipe,  mesemyth  I  cannot 
deserve  no  part  off  hys  meryttes.^ 


ij4.  I  went  yesterday  to  bede  in  the  begynnynge  of  the 
nyght  because  I  porpossede  to  rise  today  before  daylight 
that  I  myght  delyver  letters  unto  the  caryare  to  my  maistre. 
he  is  that  mann,  whatsumever  encresyng  of  riches  or 
worshippys  I  cum  to,  I  shall  never  forgete  hys  meryttes 
done  unto  me. 

'  do  for:  benefit,  do  service  for  (bene  merere). 
^  meryttes:  favours. 


HIS  MASTER  S   ROD  33 

JJ5.  We  scolars  ar  more  bounde  to  them  that  techith  us 
goode  than  to  them  that  brought  us  upe  into  the  worlde, 
for  why  withoute  connyng  we  ar  as  rude  bestes  which 
know  not  goode  fro  evyll. 


1^6.  What  lettyde  the,  John,  that  thou  couldist  not  con/ 
strue  thy  lesson  today  to  the  maister?  In  goode  faith,  be/ 
leve  me  at  fewe  wordes:  yf  thou  do  so  eny  more  I  shall 
punyshe  the  grevously. 


i^y.  The  rules  that  I  must  say  to  my  maister  ar  scandy 
halfe  writyn,  wherfore  I  am  worthy  to  be  bett. 


1^8.  Though  I  sholde  be  bett  now,  and  not  withoute  a 
cause,  for  I  was  so  lewde^  and  so  negligent  to  lesse  my 
bookes,  yete  I  am  glade  that  at  the  laste  I  have  fonde  them 
agayne. 


i^g*  —  Forgyve  me  this  fawte,  other  for  myn  awne  sake  or 
for  my  mothers  love,  for  I  am  of  thes  condicions,  the  more 
I  am  forgevyn,  the  lesse  I  fawte,  and  if  ever  I  do  another 
fawte,  ye  may  well  punyshe  me  for  them  both. 

—  Take  thou  hym  and  correcte  hym  thyselfe  as  the 
liste.  I  gyve  the  leve  to  take  thy  pleasure,  and  if  he  wyll  not 
take  it  of  the,  as  he  is  sumwhat  stubberus,^  brynge  hym 
agayn  to  me  that  I  may  spytt  oute  my  angre  upon  hym. 

'  lewde:  bungling. 

^  stubberus:  stubborn;  see  note. 

6778  O 


34  THE   BOY,   HIS   MASTER,  AND 

—  Now,  sithe  the  mater  lieth  all  in  my  handes,  aske  me 
mercy  and  take  it.  go  thy  way  quyte^  for  this  tyme.  thou 
shalt  not  fynde  me  so  herde  to  intret  as  thou  supposyde. 
but  bewar  I  take  the  not  in  such  another  brake.^ 

140.  It  wyll  cum  to  my  cours  to  have  many  a  strype  in  the 
yere  yf  my  [creanser]*  kepe  me  at  home  every  day  tyll  it  be 
vij  or  viij  of  the  cloke,  for  when  I  cum  to  schole  I  cannot 
qwyt^  myself  but  with  stryppys. 

141  *  For  what  trespasse  is  this  correcyon?  by  my  trouth, 
I  trow  ther  was  never  mann  trespassede  so  greatly  that 
he  was  worthy  to  be  punysshede  on  this  fascyon.  but  in 
feith  it  is  no  great  marvell,  for  thou  doist  al  thyng  oute  of 
ordure. 

142.  As  sone  as  I  was  comyn  into  this  straunge  towne  I 
mett  with  sum  of  my  felows  that  wer  right  glade  of  my 
comynge,  and  they  were  not  so  glade  of  it  as  childrenn  the 
which  fere  bettyng  were  sory*  for  yt. 

14^.  The  Master  saith  that  we  thorugh  his  mekenes  and 
softnes  be  moch  the  worse,  wherfor  he  hath  promyside 
his  faith  but  yf'^  we  use  oure  latyn  tongue  better  then  we 
were  wont  we  shal  be  sharpely  punysshede. 

144.  Ther  is  nothynge  that  I  desire  more  than  to  use  softe 
and  easye  correccioun  unto  the  scolars  if  I  coulde  thynke 

^^  quyte:  free,  clear.  ^  brake:  breach,  violation. 

3  qwyt:  acquit.  *  but  yf:  unless. 


HIS   MASTER  S   ROD  35 

it  wolde  most  profytt  them,  but  sum  wolde  never  lurne 
yf  thei  wer  sure  thei  sholde  never  be  bett,  and  that  may 
be  provede,  that  onn  weekes  sufferance  withoute  betynge 
hurte  them  more  than  thei  profytede  ij  before. 


Cde  l^inbflJ  of  ^tjolar:  Wittp  mh  Mull, 
l^ont^t  anb  Canton 

145.  Sum  scholars  there  be,  but  ther  ar  very  few  of  them, 
that  have  goode  wyttes  and  kepe  styll  in  remembrance  that 
as  they  here;  and  sum  have  a  goode  perceyvynge  with 
them,  such  ther  be  many,  but  they  forgete  more  in  a  day 
than  they  lurnede  in  iij.  sum  ther  ar  that  be  so  dull  which 
withoute  great  laboure  cannot  cane  the  leste  thynge.  but 
they  that  have  goode  wittes  and  diligent  must  be  cunnynge 
whether  they  wyll  or  nay,  and  the  other  with  difficulte. 


146.  I  have  no  joye  (or,  deynte)  to  tech  Children  and 
namly  duUardys  or  corrageles.^  for  that  on  it  is  certen, 
though  he  wyll  lurne,  cannot;  the  other,  though  he  can, 
wyll  not. 


i/fj.  And  scolars  that  have  goode  wyttes  wolde  gyve 
themselfe  to  ther  bookes,  thei  coulde  not  chose  but  thei 
moste  nedes  be  connynge.  and  so  we  se  it  daily  provyde  in 

'  corrageles:  without  spirit;  see  note. 


36  THE  KINDS   OF   SCHOLAR 

them  that  so  doth,  for  many  ther  be  that  have  noble  wyttes 
and  trust  in  ther  wytt  to  moche  and  put  no  diligence  to  it 
in  the  worlde,  and  therfor  thei  be  deceyvede  oftentymes  at 
the  conclusioun,  and  thei  that  be  dull  do  excede  them. 

148.  Mesemyth  ther  be  many  scholars  nowadais  i[n]  ox^ 
forde  the  which  be  of  very  sharpe  wytt.  Notwithstondynge, 
they  put  not  their  myndes  to  their  bookes  nor  to  othere 
vertuse  occupacioun  which  shulde  be  to  them  greate 
worshipe  and  to  all  their  frendes  great  confort. 

i4g.  Is  it  not  pyty  that  Childern,  and  many  of  them  the 
which  have  qwyke  wyttes,  to  be  gevyn  to  japys  and 
tryffylles,  the  which  yf  thei  wolde  gyve  them  to  ther 
bookes  shulde  have  no  perys. 


I 


150.  Many  of  the  scolars  be  of  so  sharpe  a  wytt  that  thei 
take  shortely  all  thynges  which  be  taught  them.  Which  it 
sholde  be  a  great  pleasure  for  the  maister  to  tech  if  thei 
wolde  labor  withall. 

15 J.  None  of  all  my  felows  hath  a  quykker  wytt  than  I, 
yet  for  all  that,  withoute  great  callynge  onn  and  oftyn 
betyng,  I  cannot  lurne. 

152.  Be  a  man  indude  with  never  so  great  a  wytt,  with/ 
oute  great  diligence  he  shall  never  move  to  cum  to  great 
cunnyng. 

155.  They  that  be  sumwhat  dull  of  wytt  ought  to  recom/ 
pence  their  ydylnes^  with  diligence  and  labor,  for  ther  was 

*  perys:  peers.  ^  ydylnes:  dullness;  see  note. 


WITTY   AND   DULL,   HONEST   AND   WANTON  37 

never  mann  so  dull,  nother  nothynge  so  harde  for  eny 
mann,  but  with  diligence  and  labor  he  may  overcome  it. 
for  manys  wytt  is  like  a  felde,  that  the  better  he  is  dressyde 
and  tyllyde,  the  lustyer  he  bryngeth  forth,  therfor  no  mann 
may  excuse  hym  by  dulnesse. 

154.  The  maister  knoweth  what  a  slowe  wytt  I  am  of,  for 
howbeit  I  profytt  but  litell,  yf  I  kepe  well  in  remembrance 
such  thynges  as  I  have  lurnede  I  shall  content  hym. 

155.  I  have  marvell  what  it  is  that  for  all  the  exercyse  that 
ye  have  in  makynge  of  laten  ye  ar  nothynge  the  better, 
wher  I  am  sure  that  sum  other  hathe  com  to  moche  more 
thryfte  with  lesse  laboure. 

1^6.  My  father  may  be  glade  that  ever  he  begote  me,  for 
and  yf  I  lyfFthe  age  of  malvornn  hyllys*  I  shall  yelde"  hym 
a  foole  sty  11.  and  yete  if  he  sende  not  the  soner  for  me,*  I 
shall  shame  hym,  my  maisters,  and  all  the  kyne  that  I  com 
off. 

157.  It  is  better  for  the  maister  to  tech  C  well  condicyonde 
scholars  and  vertuse  then  xx  evyll  condycionde,  for  they 
that  be  of  good  condicions  wyll  here  away  such  thynges 
as  be  tought,  not  compellyde,  and  thei  that  be  frowarde, 
the  more  payne  they  have,  the  lesse  thei  take  hede. 

15^.  Oure  childern  be  so  wantonn  that  if  thei  may  have 
ther  owne  wyll  thei  car  not  whether  ever  thei  thryve  or 


never. 


'  yclde:  produce  for  (me  semper  fatuum  babebit). 


38  THE   KINDS   OF   SCHOLAR 

J5p.  When  I  remembre  with  myselfe  the  lyfF  and  dis/ 
posicyon  of  sum  menn,  I  se  great  diversite  emonge  them, 
sum  a  mann  may  se  that  be  gevyn  to  study  and  to  cun/ 
nynge,  also  have  great  honeste  in  their  lyvyng.  Other, 
contrarywyse,  be  fare  from  thies  condicions,  the  which  if 
they  have  al  thynges  fonde^  of  their  frendes  yete  they  lyve 
unhonestely,  takynge  no  heede  nother  to  body  nother  to 
rayment. 


160.  It  shulde  be  a  pleasure  to  the  maistre  to  tech  such 
scholars  as  be  quyke  wyttide  and  wyll  endevor  themselffand 
leve  theire  barbarus  waye  and  to  here  awaye  such  thynges 
as  be  elegantlye  taught  them,  but  sum  be  so  unthriftely  dis/ 
posede  that  they  be  gevyn  alltogether  to  plais  and  sporttes 
and  ydlenes,  and  such  be  to  be  compellide  to  their  bookes 
with  sharpe  strippys. 


161.  It  is  herde  for  eny  man  to  know  the  condicioun  of 
such  that  be  undre  correccyon  and  do  well  by  the  reason 
of  the  maister,  but  yf  they  cum  onys  to  their  owne  liberty 
a  mann  may  knowe  wonderfully  an  unthryfte  from  a 
goode  onn. 


162.  I  wyll  begyne  from  hensforwarde  to  folowe  the  best 
of  all  my  felows  that  I  may  gete  the  connynge  and  also  the 
goode  name  that  thei  have  by  their  diligence.  Notwith/ 
stondynge,  the  maister  thynketh  otherwyse  because  I  have 
benn  of  so  untowarde  dispo[si]cion*  herebefore. 

'  fonde:  found,  supplied. 


WITTY  AND   DULL,   HONEST   AND   WANTON      39 

16^.  It  is  a  comyn  saynge  that  Children  have  most  quyke 
wyttes  when  they  be  fastynge,  but  I  fynde  the  contrary  for 
that  that  I  lurne  in  the  mornynge  is  sone  gone  oute  off 
mynde,  for  nyght  studye  dothe  me  moste  goode. 


164.  It  is  a  worlde  to  se  the  redy  wyttes  of  sum  menn  in 
thynges  to  do,  that  for  all  the  weyghtynes  of  maters,  ther  is 
nothynge  to  seke  with  them,  as  for  me,  I  am  of  another 
disposicioun,  for  which  whansoever  eny  weighty  thyng  is 
to  do  I  am  so  unredy  that  I  wot  never  in  the  worlde  wher 
to  turne  me. 


ttS^tfSyf^fS^^a^^tSlf^fS^'^cSJi^^tfS^^tS^^xS^^^ 


^cFjoolroom  ^alk 

165.  As  sone  as  I  am  cum  into  the  scole  this  felow  goith 
to  make  water  and  he  goyth  oute  to  the  comyn  drafte.* 
Sone  after  another  askith  licence  that  he  may  go  drynke. 
another  callith  upon  me  that  he  may  have  licence  to  go 
home,  thies  and  such  other  leyth  my  scholars  for  excuse 
oftyntyms  that  they  may  be  oute  off  the  waye. 


166.  I  mervell  greatly  what  hede  your  creansers  take  to 
youe,  for  today  ye  be  so  many  that  ther  is  unneth^  on 
place  to  sytt  upon,  and  all  the  weke  afore  the  on  half  of 
the  schole  wantyde. 

'  drafts:  privy.  ^  unneth:  scarcely. 


40  SCHOOLROOM  TALK 

16'/.  It  is  pite  that  so  deynte  a  day  and  also  so  faire  shulde 
be  spent  in  sade*  maters  rather  than  in  japys. 


168.  The  Maister  shulde  do  us  all  a  great  pleasur  today  yf 
he  wolde  gyve  us  leve  to  go  make  us  mery  this  afternone 
while  the  weder  is  so  fair,  for  it  is  doutefuU  yf  hereafter 
ther  wolde  be  so  great  a  temperatnes  of  weder. 


16^.  Yesterday,  I  toke  my  pleasure  in  the  towne  walkynge 
to  and  froo  into  the  castell  and  aboute,  but  todaye,  when 
I  cam  to  schole  I  was  welcummyde  on  the  new  fascyon.* 


J  70.*  Wolde  it  not  angre  a  mann  to  be  lyde  upon  of  this 
fascyon  ?  thei  say  that  I  kepe  a  dawe  in  my  chambre,  but 
iwys^  thei  lye  falsly  upon  me  for  it  is  but  a  pore  Conye.^ 


lyi.  I  am  wery  of  thi  cumpany,  for  ther  is  no  shrewde 
torne'^  done  here  but  thou  leist  the  fawte  on  me.  also,  the 
maister  belevyth  the. 


i'/2.  Ther  is  no  unhappy^  dede  done  here  emonge  us  but 
all  the  fawte  is  put  upon  me  though  I  be  not  gylty.  it 
botith  me  not  to  deny  it.  I  hade  rather  in  goode  feithe  dye 
then  I  wolde  suffer  thies  wronges  daily  withoute  a  cause. 

'  sade:  serious.  ^  iwys:  surely  (hercle). 

^  Conye:  rabbit. 

*  shrewde  torne:  michievous  act.  ^  unhappy:  evil. 


SCHOOLROOM  TALK  41 

175.  Thomas,  I  thanke  the,  for  I  was  present  and  stode  by 
the  when  thou  complaynst  of  me  to  my  Creanser. 


174.  John,  methynkith  that  ther  is  no  man  more  ungentle 
nother  mor  uncurtese  to  me  then  thou  art,  for  allway  thou 
complanest  upon  me  withoute  a  cause  to  my  Creanser. 
After  my  mynde  I  have  not  deservede  thy  evyll  wyll  but 
rather  thy  frendeshipe,  for  I  have  benn  allway  very  delygent 
to  do  the  a  pleasure. 


J 75.  Nowadays,  this  is  the  maner:  yf  on  take  away  eny^ 
thynge  from  me,  I  wyll  take  shortely  agayn  from  hym 
other  hys  cappe  or  hys  knyff  or  sumthynge  ellys.  but  this 
is  not  well.  It  wer  better  (or,  more  convenyent)  when 
a  mann  doth  me  wronge  that  I  shulde  speke  fair  unto 
hym  and  besech  hym  as  hertely  as  I  can  to  leve,^  and  yf 
he  leve  not  than  it  is  best  to  shew  it  to  the  maister  or  to  his 
ussher. 


ij6.  It  is  a  noble  sporte  for  me  to  here  the  fasynge^  and 
brallynge  of  thies  boys  when  they  shal  be  accusede  off 
custos^  and  to  se  how  subtyll  every  man  is  in  defendyng 
hymself 


ijj.  I  may  blame  the,  William,  for  thyn  unkyndnes  that 
thou  haste  kepte  my  booke  so  longe. 

'  leve:  cease.  ^  fasynge:  facing,  swaggering. 

3  custos:  senior  pupil,  monitor. 


42  SCHOOLROOM  TALK 

lyS.  —  What!  what  gere'  is  this?  whos  papir  is  this? 

—  What  wolde  ye  ?  it  is  myn. 

—  Whill  ye  have  so  goode  stufFe  (or,  store)  I  truste  ye 
wyll  gyve  me  on  lefF. 

—  Nay,  for  gode,  ye  may  thynke  yourselfe  well  in/ 
tretyde  (or,  well  delt  withall)  yf  ye  gete  so  mych  as  half 
onn. 

lyg.  Felowe,  mesemyth  that  thou  hast  our  latyn  and  our 
verses,  and  if  thou  gyve  me  copy  of  them  thou  shalt  have 
my  favoure. 

180.  Ther  is  nothynge  grevyth  me  so  moche  as  for  to  be 
kepte  alwey  within  the  wallys  and  that  I  can  have  nothynge 
after  my  pleasure. 

181.  I  have  playde  longe  and  forgete  mych.  the  litle 
childern  that  were  sett  to  schole  with  me  be  gone  afore  me 
fare,  therfore,  I  must  se  (or,  take  hede)  that  I  may  overtake 
them. 


182.  Mesemyth  thou  art  more  mete  to  sytt  in  a  sowters^ 
shoppe  with  a  sowters  bristyll*  then  in  a  scole  with  a 
wrytyng  penn. 

18^.  Every  mann  provailith  in  their  lurnyng  save  I,  and 
be  worthy  of  praisynge  (or,  to  be  praysede).  I,  unhappy 
felowe,  cannot  tell  what  goode  I  doo,  clen  without  al 
virtue  and  all  goodenes,  well  nygh. 

"  gere:  goods,  stuff.  ^  sowters:  shoemaker's. 


SCHOOLROOM  TALK  43 

184.  YfFthou  come  so  slowly  forwarde  to  lurne  grammer 
it  shal  be  longe  or  thou  shalt  thryfF.^ 


18^.  My  maister*  prayth  youe  to  take  myn  excuse  at  this 
tyme  for  I  dide  his  herandes  yesternyght  hether  and  thether 
in  the  town. 


186.  We  be  so  lett,^  what  with  goynge  forth  of  town  and 
rennynge  on  erandes  at  home,  that  it  is  no  marvell  thoughe 
we  thryve  but  small  in  oure  lurnynge. 


i8j.  My  maister  sent  me  to  enquer  a  certayn  man  of  whom 
I  sholde  aske  the  keys  of  the  librarye  to  be  brought  unto 
hym  and  I  coulde  not  fynde  hym  noowhere.  I  cam  agayn 
to  my  maister  and  than  I  myssede  my  latyn  booke,  but  I 
cannot  tell  whether  I  loste  hym  rennynge  or  lefte  hym  in 
the  Taverne.* 


ttSjfta^'^fSae'-^i^br^KSyr^KSby^Kl^^ 


jfrienbs(I)ip  anb  ^erfibp 

188.  Frende,  I  besech  youe  that  ye  wyl  not  be  grevyde  for 
that  I  have  done.  I  confesse  that  I  have  done  amysse,  and 
sory  I  am.  wolde  to  gode  it  were  undone!  but  hereafter  I 
wyl  be  better  ware,  and  yf  ther  be  enythynge  wherin  I 

'  thryfF:  thrive,  succeed. 
^  Lett:  hindered. 


44  FRIENDSHIP  AND   PERFIDY 

may  do  youe  a  pleasure  I  wyl  be  glade  to  recompense  this 
displasure  with  my  diligent  service,  the  meannwhile,  I 
pray  you  of  forgevynes. 

18^.  Amongest  all  other  pleasurs  methynke  it  is  not  the 
lest  but  rather  the  moste  to  have  a  faithfull  frende  to  speke 
all  thynges  to  as  he  wolde  to  hymself.  In  whos  talkynge  a 
mann  may  put  away  all  vexacions  and  hevynes,  for  he 
that  is  so  close  to  hymself  and  shews  no  man  his  mynde 
a  litell  troble  vexeth  hym  anone. 

igo.  The  gentylnes  of  a  frende  is  never  knowen  verely  tyll 
thou  be  in  such  case  that  withoute  his  helpe  thou  shalt 
suffre  losse.  then  he  wyll  never  go  fro  the  whatsoever  he 
sufFre. 

igi.  Likewyse  as  golde  is  provyde  by  fyre,  so  is  a  trusty 
frende  knowne  in  trouble.* 

1^2.  Many  tokyns  ther  be  that  I  thynke  verely  thou  lovest 
me  with  thyn  hert,  howbeit  that  it  is  longe  contenuance 
or^  very  love  be  utterly  knowne,  for  as  Cicero*  saith,  men 
must  ete  togedre  many  bushels  of  salt  before  they  know 
their  frendes.  for  it  is  very  harde  to  know  faynde  love 
from  trew  love  withoute  eny  tyme  it  fortune  to  a  mann.*  for 
as  golde  is  provede  be  fier,  so  faithfull  love  is  provede  be 
sum  great  juberty.^ 

1^5.  A  man  shall  knowe  his  frende  best  in  adversite,  fFor 
than  all  flaterers  lyghtly^  departith. 

*  or:  before.  ^  juberty:  jeopardy,  trial.  ^  lyghtly:  readily. 


FRIENDSHIP  AND  PERFIDY  45 

1^4.  Howebeit  I  fere  mych  trouble  that  men  suffer  in 
this  worlde,  yete  methynke  ther  is  nothynge  that  I  fere  so 
sore  to  be  troublede  withall  as  with  the  unkyndnes  of 
them  that  I  have  done  moch  for.  A  wise  mann,  yf  he  do 
provyde^  what  is  to  cum,  it  must  nedys  greve  hym  the 
lesse  when  it  comyth  to  hym. 


1^5.  I  am  not  a  litell  sorye,  felow,  to  depart  from  the, 
what  for  the  goode  cumpany  and  kyndnes  that  I  have 
fonde  in  the  steryth^  me  greatly  to  abyde  yf  I  wolde  not  do 
agaynst  the  commaundementes  of  my  frendes.  I  wolde  to 
gode  that  thou  woldist  go  with  me,  for  I  am  suer  ther  wyll 
nother  mete  nother  drynke  do  me  goode*  but  if  I  here  from 
the  every  day  of  thy  welfare. 


ig6.  I  was  very  sory  when  I  herde  say  that  thy  brother  was 
dede  in  this  pestilence  for  I  have  lost  a  gentle  frende  and  a 
trusty,  from  oure  first  acquentance,  the  which  was  sens  we 
were  childern,  we  were  companyde  togedre  in  on  house 
and  undre  onn  maister  and  lightly  we  hade  onn  mynde  in 
every  mater.  I  cannot  tell  in  goode  faithe  what  losse  may 
be  comparede  with  this,  the  philosopher  thought  ther  was 
nothynge  more  to  be  praisede  than  a  goode  frende. 


igj.  John,  it  is  vij  yere  agone  sens  I  lovede  the  first.  I  dide 
never  repent  me  of  it  for,  as  I  trust,  thou  didest  love  me 
agayne,  and  as  for  my  part  thou  shalt  be  sure  while  I  lyve 
thou  shalt  have  my  goode  hert.  And  I  pray  the,  lete  me 

*  provyde:  foresee.  2  steryth:  stineth. 


46  FRIENDSHIP  AND   PERFIDY 

have  so  of  the  that  we  may  lede  oure  lyffes  in  love  and 
frendeshippe  for  ther  is  nothynge  more  preciouse,  after 
olde  auctors,  then  true  love  and  frendeshippe. 


ig8.  I  am  very  sory,  John,  that  thou  sholdist  depart  hens, 
for  I  shall  want  goode  company  of  the  and  manerly  and 
plesaunt  talkynge  emonge.^  but  and  I  myght  have  myn 
owne  wyll  I  wolde  not  be  longe  after  the.  but,  as  men  say, 
he  is  bounde  at  a  stake  that  may  not  do  but  as  he  is  bidde, 
and  so  it  is  with  me.  but  if  I  may  onys  gete  the  bonde  fro 
my  necke  he^  shall  frete  no  more  there. 


i^g.  And  thou  myghtest  se  with  thyn  Eyn  how  moche  I 
love  the  thou  woldist  marvell  of  the  habundance  of  it. 
for  in  goode  feith  and  I  sholde  tell  trouth  it  is  greater  to  the 
than  to  all  menn  beside,  and  that  shalt  thou  fynde  yf  thou 
have  eny  nede  of  my  helpe.  this  shall  I  promyse  the:  I 
wyll  not  only  spende  my  goode  for  the  but  the  best  bloode 
in  my  body. 


200.  I  have  lovede  the  specially  sith  we  wer  first  acquen/ 
tyde,  and  not  withoute  a  cause,  for  thou  hast  ben  the  mann 
that  hath  done  moche  for  me.  but  in  goode  soth  I  have 
lovede  the  moche  more  sens  I  sawe  the  so  besely  to  do  for 
thy  frende,  for  tho^  never  leftist  hym  tyll  thou  haddiste 
made  an  ende  of  his  mater. 


emonge:  during  this  period.  *  he:  it. 

3  tho:  thou. 


FRIENDSHIP   AND   PERFIDY  47 

201.  What  promyse  soever  thou  make  in  my  name  I  wyll 
fulfyll  it  though  it  put  me  to  a  great  charge,  thou  shalt 
never  fynde  me  other,  by  godes  grace,  then  I  promysede  to 
the  sumtyme. 


202.  I  am  very  glade  that  dwellith  in  the  contrey,  fare 
from  the  cite  and  lurnede  menn,  and  hath  the  a  frende  in 
my  lordes  courte.  men  say  it  is  better  to  have  a  frende 
otherwhils'  in  courte  than  a  peny  in  pursse.  * 


20 j.  The  kyndnes  of  youe  is  to  be  consideryde  of  me,  for 
ye  be  evere  redy  to  do  me  goode. 


204.  We  wer  sory  that  thou  wer  hens  so  longe,  belevyng 
that  we  sholde  never  have  senn  the  agayn,  for  [we]*  may 
not  forbere^  thi  absence. 


205.  It  is  very  harde  nowadais  to  fynde  eny  feithfuU 
frende,  for  I  broke  the  secretnes  of  my  hert  todaye  to  onn 
that  I  lovede  best  of  all  the  worlde  and  he  thrughe  the 
utterynge  of  my  consell  hath  causede  many  to  be  very 
angerde  with  me. 


206.  I  have  desirede  my  frende  I  cannot  tell  how  ofte  that 
he  wolde  do  me  a  pleasur  in  a  lytell  mater,  but  I  coulde 
never  gete  it  off  hym.  methynke  he  is  sumwhat  unkynde 

^  otherwhils:  sometimes.  *  forbcre:  endure. 


48  FRIENDSHIP   AND   PERFIDY 

for  yf  he  hade  graunt  it  me  he  hade  be  never  the  worse  and 
yete  he  hade  done  me  a  goode  turne. 

20'j.  I  mervell  wher  thou  gottist  this  unkyndnes.  for  what/ 
soever  thou  doist  aske  me,  be  it  never  so  goode,  I  may 
forde'  to  gyve  it  the,  but  ii  I  aske  the  eny  thynge  thou 
denyst  it  utterly. 

20%.  I  cannot  tell  by  my  trouth  whos  wordes  a  mann  may 
trust  to  nowadays  that  he  sholde  not  be  disseyvede  falsly. 
I  myself  hade  a  frende  (as  I  thought)  that  I  lovede  specially 
that  made  me  a  sure  promysse  as  eny  mann  coulde  that  he 
wolde  do  for  me  in  such  a  mater  as  I  hade  to  do.  but,  as  I 
provede  sens,  my  mater  had  gonn  forth  as  I  wolde  have 
hade  it  and  he  hade  not  benn  agaynst  it,  and  so  falsly  he 
dyde  agaynst  his  promysse  and  he  hath  donn  agaynst  our 
olde  love  and  frendeshipe. 

2og.  I  trow  it  hath  fortunede  to  me  as  it  hath  fortunede  but 
to  few  menn,  for  thei  that  I  do  most  for  be  oftyn  tymes 
ageynst  me,  but  sum  of  them  be  not  all  only  ageynst  me  in 
my  maters  but  also  labor  how  thei  may  trouble  me. 

210.  Ther  is  no  mann  that  is  more  diligent  in  all  your 
maters  and  more  lovynge  to  youe  than  I  am,  and  yet 
methynke  the  more  serviable  I  am  to  youe  the  more 
straunge  ye  be  to  me.  I  wote  not  how  I  may  gete  your  love. 
I  wote  I  have  deservede  that  thou  sholdist  love  me;  how/ 
beit,  I  trow  thou  lovest  me  no  mann  lesse. 

"  forde:  afford,  manage;  see  note. 


FRIENDSHIP  AND   PERFIDY  49 

211.  I  have  desirede  my  frende  I  wote  not  how  often  that 
he  wolde  do  me  a  pleasure  in  a  litell  mater,  but  I  coulde 
never  gete  it  of  hym.  methynke  if  he  hade  grauntede  it  to 
me  he  hade  be  never  the  worse  hymselfe.  I  woU  not  be 
angrye  with  hym,  but  if  he  desire  enythynge  of  me  I  shal 
be  as  straunge  to  hym. 


212.  John,  methynke  thou  art  very  unkynde  to  complayne 
off  me  withoute  a  cause.  I  am  sure  yf  thou  lokist  well 
aboute  the  thoue  was  never  better  delt  withall.  but  if  thou 
knewist  I  hade  done  the  wronge  it  hade  ben  accordynge 
the  frendely  to  have  made  thy  complaynt  to  me  of  thy 
wronge;  and  it  hade  not  be  remedide  than  thou  myghtist 
lawfully  to  complayn. 

21^.  I  herde  say  thou  were  very  angrye  with  me  but  I 
cannot  tell  wherfore  for  I  am  sure  I  love  the,  no  mann 
better,  nother  dide  man  more  kynder  turnys,  yf  thou  wolt 
call  them  kynde,  nother  I  ofFendide  the  in  none  other 
mater  that  I  know  of,  withoute  ye  call  this  offence,  a  man 
to  aske  his  owne  dutye.^  and  yf  thou  do  so,  I  woll  have 
non  other  juge  but  thyselfe,  that  thou  doste  not  as  thou 
oughtest  to  do. 

21 /f.  Ther  was  never  mann  in  the  worlde  so  uncurteasly 
intreatide  withall  as  I  am.  for  he  that  I  delyverde  onys  from 
parell  of  deth  hath  take  away  all  the  goodes  that  I  hade, 
and  that  with  false  meanys.  thus  he  quyte  me  agayn  that 
when  I  dide  hym  goode  he  hath  don  me  evyll. 

'  dutye:  payment,  debt. 

5773  E 


50  FRIENDSHIP   AND  PERFIDY 

21^.  And  the  tydynges  be  trewe  that  were  brought  unto 
me  my  mater  is  dasshide.  menn  be  false  and  so  unstedefast 
of  their  promyse  nowadais  that  a  man  shall  not  fynde 
whome  he  shall  trust  to.  for  he  that  maketh  the  fairest  face 
and  spekith  the  fairest  wordes  shall  sonest  deceyve  the. 
I  hade  a  mann  the  which  I  hade  wenyde  hade  ben  my 
frende  the  which  hade  my  mater  in  honde,  and  hath 
honge  longe  in  his  hondes  to  be  pletyde,  and  now,  as 
menn  say,  he  is  the  most  enmy  that  I  have. 


216.  YfFeny  trust  were  in  them  in  whome  sholde  be  most 
trust,  I  sholde  not  laboure.  howbeit,  I  doubte  not  tyme 
wyll  come  that  thei  shall  repent  them  of  their  owne 
miserable  dealynge  and  behavynge.  notwithstondynge, 
I  wyll  deter  me  ^  nothynge  grevously  agaynst  them  tyll  I 
poundre  in  my  mynde,  not  what  they  have  deservede,  but 
what  it  semyth^  me  for  to  do  to  them,  lest  they  that  be 
nowe  my  frendes  for  my  sharpnes  (that  I  were  loth)  sholde 
forsake  me. 


21"/.  I  herde  say  that  thou  sholdist  report  with  suche  of 
thyn  acquentance  that  I  have  deceyvede  the  in  a  mater.  I 
praye  the  have  noo  mo  suche  wordes  of  me  yf  thou  wolt 
have  us  deale  together  after  this,  for  ther  is  nothynge  that 
I  love  worse  than  a  man  to  speke  unkyndely  of  me  by/ 
hynde  my  bake. 


218.  The  last  weke  when  I  askyde  of  my  detter  the  money 
which  I  lent  hym  he  full  uncurtesly,  whych  I  wolde  never 

'  determe:  determine.  ^  semyth:  beseems. 


FRIENDSHIP  AND  PERFIDY  $1 

have  wenyde  for  the  olde  love  which  was  betwenn  us,  not 
only  dissymylede  hymself  to  have  borowde  money  of  me 
but  untruly  denyde  it. 


2ig.  The  laste  weke  ther  was  sende  me  from  my  cuntrey 
(ther  wher  I  was  borne)  CC  wardens  and  as  many  perys, 
and  now  thorow  this  sharpe  froste  every  thurde  pere 
begynnyth  to  wexe  roton.  yf  I  hade  known  it  before,  I 
wolde  thrugh  the  departynge^  them  amongyst  my  com/ 
panyons  have  gete  me  many  frendys. 


tfft»tt5befttibifttS^^tS>i»^t9j^ttS^Xt9ii^^tS»-^^ 


220.  I  was  yesternyght  late  at  Carfaxe*  with  strangers, 
when  we  hade  stonde  styll  a  while  we  perceyvede  that  ther 
were  certeyne  getters,^  and  as  sone  as  we  saw  them  I 
ranne  away  as  faste  as  I  coulde  that  for  overmych  hast 
I  fell  in  the  myer. 


221.*  Many  of  scholars  be  of  this  disposicioun  that  they 
wyll  kepe  themselfe  in  their  chambre  from  mornynge  tyll 
nyght  for  to  be  seen  vertuouse  felows,  but  neverthelesse 
when  it  is  nyght  they  wyll  rushe  oute  in  harnes^  into  the 
stretes  like  as  foxis  doth  oute  of  their  holys  for  to  robe  menn 

*  dcpartynge:  sharing.  *  getters:  roisterers  {grassatorei). 

3  in  hamcs:  armed. 


52  THIEVES   AND   CHEATS 

of  their  money  if  they  mett  eny,  and  of  this  maner  the 
moste  myschevyst  taill  of  a  dragonn  is  hyde  undreneth  the 
kynde^  of  a  doufe.^ 

222.  I  trowe  I  was  borne  in  an  unhappy  season,  ther  is  no 
man  in  the  worlde  to  whom  fortune  is  more  contrary 
then  to  me.  I  have  wysshede  a  thousande  tyms  that  as  sone 
as  I  was  borne  that  by  and  by^  I  hade  benn  delyverde  oute 
of  thys  worlde  agayne.  I  com  never  frome  my  frendes*  but 
I  hade  sum  mysfortune.  for  the  last  tyme  that  I  com  hydre 
a  great  cumpany  of  thevys  compaside  me  about  and  toke 
away  all  that  I  hade. 

22^.  My  brother  came  to  me  before  it  was  day,  full  of 
sorowe  and  hevynes,  and  shewde  me  that  he  was  robbyde 
of  all  the  goodes  that  he  hade.  I  confortyde  hym  as  well  as 
I  coulde  for  methought  he  was  marveliously  disposide  to 
many  thynges.*  I  coulde  se  no  better  way  to  confort  hym 
but  to  shew  this  example:  tha[t]*  thike^  menn  that  [have]* 
nowght  but  from  day  to  day  lyvetheas  merely^  as  they  that 
gadern  great  goodys. 

22/\.  My  father  and  my  mother  removede  yesterday  with 
all  their  stofFe  of  householde  from  hense  to  londonn.  they 
lefte  nothyng  here  behynde  them  but  pultre,  the  which  is 
put  to  my  kepynge.  I  fere  me  but  yf  I  take  not  the  better 
hede  that  thies  jetters^  a  nyght  season  wyll  stele  them  away 
when  I  am  not  war. 

'  kynde:  nature.  ^  doufe:  dove. 

3  by  and  by:  immediately  (protinus).  ^  thike:  those  (thilk). 

5  merely:  merrily.  ^  jetters:  see  getters,  220, 


THIEVES  AND   CHEATS  53 

225.  I  knowe  full  well  that  a  mann  shulde  fynde  very  few 
men  to  whos  wordes  he  may  trust  for  within  few  dais  ther 
cam  a  felow  oute  of  my  cuntrey  and  saide  that  he  was 
dwellyng  in  the  same  town  ther  I  dweUide  and  was  borne, 
and  as  I  understode  after,  for  non  other  cause  but  to  fynde 
the  meanys  to  borow  money  of  me,  for  he  saide  that  he 
hade  spende  all  his  money  and  hade  a  great  jorney  to  goo. 


226.  Within  thies  few  dais  ther  came  a  certeyn  man  to  me 
and  shewde  that  he  hade  a  great  acquentaunce  with  me, 
and  I  remembre  not  that  ever  I  hade  sen  hym,  and  when 
he  hade  prolongede  his  comunicacioun  all  his  talkyng 
come  to  that  he  myght  borowe  money  of  me.  I  trowede  it 
was  not  wisdome  to  lende  eny  money  withoute  I  were 
sure  of  the  payment. 


22J.  This  day  sevenyght,  when  I  was  at  londonn  cum/ 
myng  to  Oxforde,  it  was  shewde  me  of  ij  ways  that  the 
onn  was  full  of  thevys  and  the  other  way  I  coulde  not  go 
for  the  brygges  were  brokenn  upe.  I  wolde  rather  se  to  my 
helth  than  to  my  profitt  and  than  I  bydde^  tyll  I  myght 
have  more  company. 


228.  It  is  great  pite  that  sum  menn  sholde  lyfFe  and  have 
ther  helth.  thei  be  so  ungracious  and  so  light  of  ther 
handys*  that  thei  thynke  thei  be  never  well  at  ease  but 
when  thei  be  doynge  sume  myschefe. 

22g.  It  is  pite  that  a  juge  sholde  have  eny  compassion  of 
'  bydde:  waited. 


54  THIEVES   AND   CHEATS 

eny  errant  thefFe,  and  namly  those  that  wyll  kyll  men 
after  that  thei  have  robbyde  them  of  ther  goodys. 


2^0.  This  potecarys  crafte  is  most  fullyst  of  deseyte  of  all 
craftys  in  the  worlde,  for  thies  potecarys  lake  no  deseyte  in 
weynge  their  spice,  for  other  the  balance  be  not  like  or 
ellys  the  beame  is  not  equall  or  elles  they  wyll  holde  the 
tonge  of  the  balance  styll  in  the  holow  with  their  fyngar 
when  they  be  in  weynge.  they  care  nothynge  for  the  welth 
of  ther  soule.so  they  may  be  ryche. 


251.  Many  scholars  of  this  universite  wolde  spende  wast-* 
fully  all  their  fathers  goodes  in  japys  and  trifuUes  this 
faire  yf  they  myght  have  it  at  their  liberte.  for  thies  Ion/ 
dyners  be  so  craftye  and  so  wyly  in  dressynge  their  gere  so 
gloriusly  that  they  may  deceyve  us  scholars  lyghdy. 


2^2.  He  that  hath  money  enough  to  cast  away  lete  hym 
pike  hymselfe^  to  the  faire  and  make  a  bargyn  with  the 
londyners,  and  I  doubte  not  but  er  he  depart  thei  shall 
make  hym  as  clen  from  it  as  an  ape  fro  tailys,*  for  thei  study 
nothyng  in  the  worlde  ellys  but  for  to  deceyve  menn  with 
fair  spech. 


255.  The  merchantes  and  shipmenn  salynge  over  diverse 
sees  go  ofte  in  great  jeopardy  oute  of  all  mesure,  for  often/ 
tymes  all  their  goodes  be  taken  away  be  robbers  of  the  see, 

^  pike  hymselfe:  be  off. 


THIEVES  AND   CHEATS  55 

with  tempest  and  shipewreke.  but  the  most  jeopardy  of  all       / 
is  when  thei  be  taken  and  caryde  into  straunge  contreys 
and  laide  in  prison  tyll  thei  be  dede,  and  sumtyme  slayne 
and  caste  over  shipeborde. 


<@aob  Counssel 

234.  When  I  speke  to  the  for  thy  welth,^  thou  thynkith 
fowle  of  it,  yet  for  all  that  thou  shalt  be  the  first  that  shall 
repent  it.  therfor  do  after  my  counsell,  tho  I  be  not  very 
wyse,  and  it  shal  be  for  the  best. 

255.  Childern  ought  nether  to  chyde  nother  to  fyght.  I 
trust  that  ye  wyll  not  do  so.  I  wyll  have  youe  to  be  softe, 
gende,  and  styll. 

236.  Though  a  mann  have  all  the  noble  gyftes  of  natur,  as 
similitude  of  statur,  quyknes  of  body,  bewtynes*  of  shape, 
yete  and  yf  his  condicyons  wyl  not  agre  and  be  acordynge 
he  is  litle  sett  by,  for  it  is  acordynge  for  a  yonge  mann  to 
be  sobre  and  gentle  and  not  to  be  a  pyker  of  quarelles  nor 
to  be  stobur,  not  of  no  frowarde  stomake,  as  I  know  sum 
be  whos  prowde  stomake  must  be  delayde  and  swagyde 
with  sharpe  stryppys. 

2^"/.  It  is  the  part  of  good  yonge  menn,  as  an  eloquent  and 
an  holy  mann  writyth,  for  to  have  the  drede  of  almyghty 

'  welth:  profit. 


56  GOOD   COUNSEL 

gode  and  to  do  reverence  to  hire^  father  and  mother,  to 
obey  olde  menn,  to  kepe  hire  chastite  (or,  virginite),  and 
not  to  dispyse  lowly nesse  (or,  humylite),  to  love  mercy 
and  shamfastnes  which  thynges  be  unto  youghe  a  faire 
ornament  (or,  bewtye). 

2^8.  Sylver  is  a  faire  thynge,  golde  is  a  faire  thynge,  pre/ 
ciouse  stonys  is  mor  worthe.  Is  ther  enythynge  comparable 
to  thies  ?  yee,  verely,  ther  is,  and  that  passith  it.  for  after 
most  wyse  mennys  myndes,  I  tell  youe  vertue  passith  thies 
more  than  can  be  shewde,  which  whosoever  hath,  for  to 
use  plautes  proposicion,*  he  hath  all  thynge. 

2^g.  Virginite,  how  may  I  extoU  it!  truly  I  cannot  tell, 
it  passith  eny  manys  wytt,  not  only  myn,  to  expresse  the 
bewty  of  it.  ther  is  the  floure  that  hath  no  spott,  the  floure 
of  clennesse  and  honeste,  the  floure  havyng  the  most 
swetest  savor,  passynge  precious  stonys  in  bewty,  be  they 
never  so  bright  and  oriant,  a  floure  of  hevyn  growynge 
in  the  garthen  of  vertue,  the  which  whosoever  have  it  in 
his  breste  and  kepith  it  he  cannot  be  destroyde  by  noo 
maner  of  ways. 

240.  Nother  the  purpyll  rose  nother  the  whitt  lyllys  ar 
to  be  comparede  in  bewty  unto  vertu.  she  passeth  in  hire 
fairnesse  bothe  golde  and  preciouse  stonys.  also,  contrary 
wyse,  ther  is  nothynge  more  fouler  than  vice  and  synne. 

241.  Iff  ye  desire  (or,  covytt)  to  gete  (or,  cum)  into  many 
menys  favour  and  have  true  and  trusty  love,  trust  not  to 

'  hire:  their. 


GOOD   COUNSEL  57 

mych  in  youre  fayrnes,  strenght,  wytt,  in  your  fathers  and 
mothers  goodes,  fFor  all  such  thynges  be  undre  fortunes 
daunger'  and  transitory,  lete  your  trust  be  in  vertu  only  and 
that  shall  gete  youe  love,  praise,  and  worshype,  and  shall 
holde  (or,  kepe)  yt  evermore. 

242.  We  most  labor  with  all  oure  poure  that  we  may 
profytt  as  well  in  goode  maners  as  in  connynge,  for  as 
wyse  men  say  a  man  withoute  them,  be  he  never  so  con/ 
nynge,  is  reputede  for  a  dawe. 

2^j.*  —  But  lete  us  leve  this  gere  and  turne  to  the  preceptes 
of  goode  lyvynge  wherby  we  may  guyde  (or,  govern)  the 
frailte  of  oure  youghe.  I  put  youe  in  remembrance  of  late 
that  ye  shulde  voide  mych  claterynge  and  so  do  ye, 
specially  when  a  mann  goith  aboute  to  angre  youe  and 
begynnyth  chydynge  or  pykyth  quarrellys,  then  be  not 
ashamede  for  to  be  dombe.  lete  your  communicacyon  be 
also  lowly,  sett  not  a  litell  by  humylite,  for  it  is  a  fayre 
vertue  which  if  it  myght  be  sene  with  a  manys  ey  it  wolde 
plese  hym,  be  youe  sure,  more  (and  it  were  after  your  awne 
jugement)  than  the  whyte  lillye  or  the  purpuU  rose. 

—  Shulde  he  please?  quod  I.  ye,  gode  wote,  very  sure 
withoute  doubte. 

244.  The  best  token  in  yonge  menn  is  shamefastnes,  for 
whatsoever  vice  or  fawte  be  put  upon  them,  whether  it 
be  true  or  false,  while  thei  be  of  that  age,  anone  to  be 
ashamede  and  to  blushe  in  the  face,  for  he  that  is  past  onys 
the  bondys  of  shamefastnes  he  is  redy  to  fall  to  all  myscheffe. 

'  daunger:  dominion. 


58  GOOD  COUNSEL 

24^.  I  thynke  it  be  best  for  every  man  to  leve  unthryfty 
cumpanye  and  draw  to  vertuse,  for  nowadays  we  be  more 
redy  to  do  evyll  then  to  goodnes,  and  moreover  ther  be 
many  that  be  redy  to  provoke  and  entyse  a  man  to  evyll 
and  he  be  not  well  ware. 


246.  Mesemyth  it  is  very  goode  and  profitable  emongest 
yonge  men  to  be  conversant  with  them  the  which  may 
make  them  better,  namly  whils  youghe  of  naturall  dis/ 
posicion  is  rather  to  evyll  then  to  goode.  neverthelesse, 
ther  be  many  wysar  in  their  yough  then  in  their  age. 


24J.  Ther  is  nothynge  mor  perliouse  to  yonge  menn  than 
evyll  company,  the  which  withdrawes  ther  myndis,  and 
specially  theis  that  be  most  goodly  and  well/wyttyde,  to 
unthrifty  pleasurs  and  rule^  fro  ther  bookes,  and  so  ther  be 
moo  loste  for  lacke  of  goode  creansers  then  thorow  the 
defawte  of  ther  techers,  the  which*  sholde  kepe  them  fro 
suche  cumpany. 


248.  Hurt  no  mann  be  myn  advyse  leste  thou  be  hurt 
agayn,  for  I  that  withoute  greff  ^  take  wronge  wyll  ons 
avenge  the  agayne. 


24p.  It  is  nede  for  a  mann  when  he  shall  cume  first  into 
a  straunge  cuntre  so  to  behave  selfe  that  all  thynges  that 
he  doth  may  be  acceptable. 

^  rule:  behaviour.  ^  grefF:  complaint. 


GOOD   COUNSEL  $9 

2^0.  I  have  herde  wyse  men  say  many  tymes  that  a  mann 
sholde  not  beleve  every  fleynge  tale,  and  he  that  wyl  be 
vengyde  on  every  wroth,  the  longer  he  lyveth  the  lesse  he 
hath.* 

251.  Offise  or  dignite  getyth  favor  and  great  name,  but 
office  withoute  honeste  bryngeth  a  mann  to  great  rebuke 
and  shame. 


252.  Pacience  is  a  great  tokyn  of  vv^isdome,  likev^^ise  as 
hedynes  or  testines  is  a  tokyn  of  foly. 


255.  He  that  hath  but  litell  and  can  be  content  is  better  at 
ease  than  he  that  is  riche  and  alwaye  careth  for  more. 


25^.  I  am  better  content  with  a  litell  goode  than  he  that 
hath  goode  enough  and  knouth  not  how  he  may  spende 
it  honestly.' 


255.  I  counsell  youe,  be  not  aferde  to  speke  for  your  availe, 
for  it  is  a  comyn  sayng,  'spare  speke,  spare  spede.'* 


2^6.  It  is  an  olde  proverbe,  *as  wyly  is  the  foxe  as  the 
hare,'*  the  which  in  myn  opinion  cannot  be  alway  true,  for 
wher  the  foxe  was  iij  dais  in  the  scole,  the  hare  sportyde 
hym  in  the  feldes  takynge  no  thought  for  the  kynges 
sylver. 

*  honestly:  properly,  discreetly. 


60  GOOD   COUNSEL 

257.  I  have  provyde  this  later  dais  a  thynge  that  I  shall 
never  forgett,  that  when  a  mann  doth  a  thyng  rasshly  and 
withoute  advysment  he  wyll  sone  repent  it.  therfore  here^ 
after  I  am  utterly  advyside  to  take  deliberacioun  which  my 
father  warnyde  me  oftyn  that  I  shulde  take  in  all  maters, 
sayng  many  a  tyme  that  comyn  poynt,  *an  hasty  man 
lakkith  never  wo.'* 


2^8.  Methought  ther  was  never  thyng  more  periloser  in 
use  emonge  menn  than  thies  flaterers  by  the  which  many 
a  man  is  deceyvede.  for  ther  is  no  man  that  can  sonner 
be  deceyvede  then  to  gyve  credence  to  a  flaterer,  the  which 
wyl  not  speke  in  trouthe  but  ever  he  wyll  speke  in  thynges 
that  be  moste  for  his  availe,  or  tho  that  he  thynkith  may 
moste  please. 

25^.*  Sith  that  gode  almyghty,  beynge  conversant  in  erth, 
taught  his  disciples  to  beware  of  those  maner  of  people 
the  which  loke  like  sayntes,  not  withoute  a  cause,  mese/ 
myth  of  a  congruence  it  sholde  be  greatly  for  oure  pro/ 
fytt  to  flee  ther  cumpany,  for  when  thei  speke  moste 
fairest  to  a  mann  thei  wyll  sonyst  deceyve  hym. 


260.  Emonge  all  maner  of  vicys  I  have  hatede  allway 
dobuU  tonguede  felows  which  befor  a  manys  face  can 
speke  fair  and  flater  and  behynde  his  bake  doth  say  the 
worste. 


261.  Emonge  poyntes  of  nurture  that  is  on,  that  when  a 
mann  commendith  youe  ye  make  curtesy,  and  yf  on  dis/ 


GOOD   COUNSEL  6l 

commende  youe  verely  it  wolde  be  on  youe  to  holde  your 
peace,  ever  have  few  wordes,  holdyng  of  tonge,  and 
closenes  be  commendide.  copyousenes  of  wordes  and 
great  langage  is  commonly  reprovyde  (or,  takyn  as  a  vice). 


262.  Why  castith  thou  away  this  praty  booke  as  it  were 
nought  worth  and  a  thynge  that  coulde  do  no  service  or 
goode?  ther  is  nothynge  but  it  wyll  serve  for  sumwhat,  be 
it  never  so  course,  lay  hym  upe  ageynst  another  tyme; 
peraventure  ons  ye  wyll  sech  after  hym.  lurne  to  be  a  goode 
nusbonde.^ 


265.  Service  is  none  heritage,*  and  that  we  se  daily,  for 
and  the  maister  like  not  his  servaunt,  or  the  servaunt  his 
maister,  they  moste  depart.  Furthermore,  we  se  but  few 
successours  cheryshe  suche  servauntes  as  were  great  with 
ther  predecessours.  therfor,  my  frende,  take  hede  to  thiselfe 
while  thou  haste  a  maister  and  maist  do  moche  with  hym, 
that  thou  maist  have  wherwith  to  lyve  whan  he  is  gone.  I 
say  not  this  for  nought,  for  I  knowe  myselfe  many  a  praty 
mann  that  was  well  at  ease  but  late  agone  in  a  goode 
service,  maisterles,  hable  to  here  the  kynges  standerde,  as 
wolde  serve  full  fayn  withoute  wages  for  mete,  drynke, 
and  clothe.  These  be  ashamede  to  begge  bycause  they 
were  well  at  ease  so  late  dais,  thei  dare  not  stele  for  fer  of 
hangynge.  tell  me  howe  shall  thei  lyve  ?  thei  can  no  handy-' 
crafte,  thei  cannot  skyll  of  husbondrye,  thei  thynke  it  a 
foule  shame  to  fowle  ther  handes. 

'  goode  husbonde:  provident  man. 


62  GOOD   COUNSEL 

264.  When  a  mann  is  in  his  lusty  yough  and  in  his  parfytt 
age,  thoo  he  be  never  so  poore,  yete  while  he  hath  all 
his  lymes  and  chefTe  strenght  every  man  wyll  gladely 
accept  hym  to  his  servyce,  but  when  age  comyth  upon 
hym  he  is  shortely  sett  nought  by  and  lighdy  is  put  oute  of 
his  servyce. 

26^.  Many  onn  while  their  frendes  be  alyve,  takynge  no 
care  at  all,  gyve  them  to  sportes  and  pleasurs,  and  after 
their  deth,  when  they  have  non  to  go  to  for  sukker,  nor 
cane  skyll  on  no  crafte,  be  fayne  to  go  a/beggynge. 

266.  Iff  a  man  sholde  sende  letters  to  a  great  prince,  it 
forsithe^  gready  what  tyme  they  be  delyverde  to  hym, 
whether  they  be  gevyn  when  he  is  troblede  and  vexide  or 
els  when  he  is  mery.  therfor  I  commande  my  servaunt 
that  I  sent  to  the  kynge  that  he  sholde  wayt  a  season  to 
delyver  his  letters,  for  lykewyse  as  they  that  cum  to  us  oute 
of  season  greve  us  so  lykewyse  letters  when  they  be  gevyn 
oute  of  season  do  displease. 

26"/.  Methynke  it  is  no  litell  jape^  for  a  mann  to  shew 
openly  eny  connynge  in  so  noble  an  universite  wher  be 
menn  of  clere  and  of  subtill  wytt  and  in  ther  connynge 
as  well  spede  as  they  can  be,  and  lightly  a  mann  cann 
shewe  nothynge  in  no  faculte  but  ther  be  sum  men  can 
shew  it  as  well  as  he.  wherfore  he  may  not  well  arre,^  for 
and  he  do  he  nede  not  doubte  sum  men  wyll  take  hym  in 
his  fawte. 

'  forsithe:  is  of  importance.  ^  jape:  trick,  accomplishment. 

^  arre:  err. 


GOOD   COUNSEL  63 

268.  I  am  glade  that  thou  hast  made  an  ende  of  thyn 
office  of  the  proctorshipe*  for  it  was  a  great  charge  unto  the, 
but  I  am  more  glade  that  thou  hast  behavede  the  so  in  it 
that  every  mann  was  glade  to  say  well  by  the  to  thy  great 
worshipe  and  of  thy  frendes.  for  it  is  a  great  profytt  to  eny 
mann  that  can  behave  hymselfe  well  while  he  is  in  office. 


26g.  Thomas,  thou  arte  worthy  to  be  commendide  for 
bycause  thou  spakist  yesterday  so  well,  so  v^sely,  so  nobly 
for  the  comynwelth.  methynke  thou  didist  but  thy  duty, 
for  every  goode  cytisyn  is  bounde  not  alonly  to  prefare 
the  comynwelth  befor  his  private  welth  but  also  if  eny 
jeopardy  cum  that  he  be  redye  to  put  hymselfF  in  jeo^ 
pardye. 


270.  I  have  gevyn  youe  a  few  preceptes  not  as  though  I 
were  an  informar  or  instructor  of  maners,  for  why  I  have 
nede  of  an  informar  myselfe,  but  bycause  it  is  a  pleasant 
maner  of  connynge  and  profitable  in  especiall  agayn  by^ 
cause  a  man  shulde  lurne  moch  by  techynge.  I  wolde  I 
coulde  please  bothe  youe  and  me  therin. 


tKfb^KtStjf'^KS^i^^KSfitfttibaftKfbO'tt^^ 


Mtn  anb  Mmntvi  of  aintiqiuitp 

2yi.  The  olde  Romans  hade  so  great  a  love  to  the  comyn/ 
welth  that  rather  thei  wolde  sley  themselfe  than  they  wolde 
departe  from  that  that  was  the  comyn  welth,  as  we  rede 


64  MEN  AND   MANNERS   OF   ANTIQUITY 

of  the  noble  mann  Cato  that  herde  that  he  sholde  be 
takyn  of  Julius  Cesar  and  so  to  be  brought  in  servitute. 
he  slew  hymselfe,  and  many  other  were  so  customyde  in 
that  maner  of  deth  that  they  thought  it  was  the  best  deth 
that  coulde  be. 


272.  It  is  no  mervell  allthough  olde  auctorus,  as  Virgill 
and  tully  and  many  other  of  the  Romans,  were  more 
eloquent  than  the  auctors  that  be  nowadais,  for  they  sett 
their  myndes  so  greatly  in  connynge  that  no  desire  of 
great  goodys,  nor  voluptuosnes  of  fleshe,  no  covyteisnes 
of  worshipe,  no  vayneglory  of  batell,  no  worldy  laboure 
coulde  trouble  their  myndes,  but  gave  themselff  utterly 
to  vertu,  puttynge  away  all  maner  of  thyngys  which 
myght  withdrawe  them  from  studye. 

275.  Hannyball,  the  capten  of  the  cartagenensis,  when  he 
warride  so  myschevously  agaynst  the  romans,  he  clymyde 
upon  the  mountans  with  his  oste  (the  which*  defendide 
ytalye  as  yt  hade  benn  wallys)  wher  before  they  were 
never  comyn  upon  for  hyght  and  sharpnes.  but  he  made 
a  way  thrughe  them  and  fretyde^  them  in  with  venegyr 
and  brymstone.*  that  was  the  wisdome  of  the  captayne 
that  made  a  way  by  crafte  wheras  nature  denyede. 


274.  And  a  man  wolde  rede  all  the  cronycles  he  shall  not 
fynde  more  nobler  gestes^  then  were  done  oftentymes  by 
the  Romans,  pompeius  beynge  capteyne.  and  yf  fortune 

^  fretyde:  destroyed  by  corroding.  ^  gestes:  actions. 


MEN  AND   MANNERS   OF   ANTIQUITY  65 

hade  not  benn  agaynste  hym  when  he  was  overcome  of 
Julius  Cesar,  he  myght  have  be  well  callede  the  most 
noble  capteyn  of  all  menn.  but  the  last  ende  of  hym,  when 
he  was  overcome,  made  his  other  noble  dedys  not  apere  as 
they  were. 

275.  It  shal  be  a  great  greffto  a  yonge  sowger  to  lye  in  the 
colde  wynter  nyghtes  in  their  tentes  that  were  wonte  to 
lye  upon  a  softe  fether  bedde,  but  yete  the  hardenes  of 
warre  nowadais  is  nothynge  lyke  the  olde  warre  of  the 
Romans,  the  which  all  the  wynter  longe  never  suffrede 
ther  sowgers  to  cum  to  no  towne  nor  house,  what  froste, 
what  snowe,  what  tempest,  what  colde  that  ever  was, 
and  by  that  use  and  custome  they  myght  suffre  colde 
and  hungre,  but  owrs  ar  so  deUcate  that  anone  they  ar 
destroyde. 

27^.  Somtyme  of  oure  olde  fathers  ther  was  great  diligence 
put  in  Chosynge  of  a  captayne,  and  not  withoute  a  cause, 
for  it  is  not  a  Utell  difference  undre  whose  ledynge  a  man 
shall  fyght.  for  we  rede  in  the  olde  Cronycles  that  when 
the  batell  went  to  the  worse  of  the  on  partye^  and  wer 
fledde,  because  of  ofte  callynge  agayn  of  the  Capteyn  they 
retornyde  and  the  batell  was  begone  afresshe  and  at  the 
conclusion  thei  hade  the  hyer  honde  of  their  Enmys.  and 
of  the  contrary  parte,  what  hapynede  be  unlukky  ledyng 
of  the  capteyn  it  is  Ught^  to  knowe. 

2']'].  The  imbacitours  in  the  olde  season  were  moche 
more  sett  bye  then  thei  be  nowadais,  for  we  rede  in  the 

'  partye:  side.  ^  light:  easy. 

6773  F 


66  MEN  AND   MANNERS   OF  ANTIQUITY 

Cronycles  that  the  Romans  destroide  citeys  because  their 
imbacitors  wer  evyll  entretyde.  thei  thought  ther  offence 
so  great  for  to  hurte  the  imbacitors  that  thei  coulde  not 
be  content  with  no  lesse  punyshment  but  with  other^ 
destruccioun  both  of  town  and  men. 


'^i^h!r^f3bir^fS^»tfS»'^i^tiy^a:»t^^ 


2j8.  Right  wel  belovede  father  and  mother,  we  long 
gready  to  se  youe,  whose  selfe  sight  was  wonte  allway  to 
be  to  us  a  great  conforte. 


2jg.  In  goode  faith  I  cannot  expresse  in  wordes  how  sorye 
that  I  was  after  it  was  shewde  me  that  thoue  haddist  loste 
thy  father,  so  worshipful!  a  mann  and  so  speciall  a  frende 
as  he  was  to  me.  In  goode  feith,  I  trowe  and  I  hade  loste 
myn  owne  father  I  coulde  not  have  ben  moche  more 
sorye,  and  forsothe  not  withoute  a  cause,  for  he  was  the 
mann  that,  by  as  moch  as  ever  I  cowlde  spye  by  hym, 
lovede  me  as  well  as  I  hade  be  his  own  son. 


280.  Because  that  I  have  non  answer  of  my  laste  letters 
I  shew  (or,  reherse)  to  the  agayn  the  tenor  of  the  same, 
thou  knowst  well  I  have  a  brother  at  paris*  and  it  is  not 
unknown  to  the  how  well  sen  he  is  in  humanite.^  I  have 

'  other:  utter;  see  note.  ^  humanite:  humane  letters. 


EPISTOLARY  SCRAPS  67 

ben  movede  ofte  seasons  and  exhortede  both  by  the  letters 
and  by  the  messangers  of  hym,  and  now  in  conclusion 
am  constranede  to  writt  unto  hym  of  this  mater.  I  aske  the 
consell  that  be  thy  dehgence  and  helpe,  as  thou  art  a 
wyse  man,  I  may  deserve  thankys  of  hyme. 


281.  I  have  perceyvede  by  many  tokyns  afor  this,  both  by 
letters  and  by  thy  gentylnes,  that  I  be  well  belovede  of  the, 
but  now  I  double  whether  I  be  so  or  noo. 


282.  The  tydynges  that  thou  toldist  me  late  made  me  very 
hevy.  Whether  thou  didest  it  for  the  nonys  to  make  me 
sory  I  cannot  tell.  Another  felow  tolde  me  the  same;  it 
may  fortune  ye  were  agreyde  before.  I  pray  to  gode  it  may 
be  founde  false.  I  pray  the  tell  me  the  trouth  and  ease  my 
mynde. 


28^.  Thou  desiriste  of  me  in  thy  last  letters  that  I  shulde 
have  the  Commendide  specially  to  thy  maister.  my  wyll 
is  goode  for  to  do  it,  but  methynke  I  have  onn  occasion  for 
to  quarell  with  the,  for  of  all  menn  that  be  longynge^ 
to  hym  thou  only  woldiste  never  sende  me  worde  how 
fare  I  was  oute  of  conceyte  with  thy  maister.  many  menn 
shewede  it  to  me,  when  I  coulde  not  cast  the  cause  in  my 
mynde,  that  he  put  upon  me  that  I  sholde  lye  wayt  for 
hym  in  a  certeyn  nyght  and  withoute  he  hade  gott  hym^ 
self  rather^  away  that  I  sholde  have  cume  upon  hym  with 
a  knyfF. 

*  longynge:  belonging.  *  rather:  more  quickly. 


68  EPISTOLARY   SCRAPS 

284.  I  understonde  that  thou  art  sumwhat  wroth  with  me, 
and  I  marvell  for  what  cause  it  sholde  be,  withoute  it  be, 
as  I  suspecte,  that  sum  of  myn  enmys  hath  brought  sum 
shrewde^  talys  of  me  to  the.  such  talys  ought  not  to  be 
belevyde  nother  to  be  herde  of  a  frende.  for  I  have  not 
provokede  menn  to  talke  evyll  of  the  but  only  reprovyde 
them,  for  when  sum  men  complaynede  of  thy  nygarde^ 
shippe  I  saide  thou  didiste  Hke  a  wise  mann  to  be  streyte^ 
in  gevynge  of  other  menys  goodes. 


28^.  I  am  very  glade  that  thou  didest  commende  my 
mynde  and  counsell,  which  if  your  frendes  wolde  have 
taken  it  hade  be  no  labor  to  have  recoverde  both  their 
goodes  and  myn.  Now,  what  wyl  be  the  ende  of  this 
mater  I  cannot  tell,  now  your  adversaries  put  me  in  blame 
that  I  sholde  be  chefe  doere  of  the  kyllynge  of  the  maire  of 
the  towne  for  non  other  cause  but  to  sett  all  his  frendes 
agaynst  me. 


286.  As  longe  as  I  was  in  doubte  whether  thy  counsell 
dide  me  mor  goode  or  hurte  I  wrote  nothyng  unto  the, 
not  bycause  I  dide  not  thynke  thi  counsell  goode  but 
bycause  I  feryde  I  sent  the  no  worde  howe  the  mater 
fortunede  thou  woldist  have  be  sory  for  my  sake.  Wherfor 
I  loke  after  no  letters  agayn,  but  I  desire  the  to  cum  that  we 
may  comyn^  togeder  what  way  we  may  take  in  all  maters 
and  how  we  may  brynge  forth  this  seasonn. 

^  shrewder  malignant. 

^  streyte:  thrifty. 

3  comyn:  consult;  see  note. 


EPISTOLARY   SCRAPS  69 

2%'j.  I  am  glade  that  the  mater  is  brought  aboute  after  thi 
mynde.  In  goode  faith,  I  was  afrayde  onys  that  it  wolde 
never  cum  to  the  poynt  that  it  is  at  nowe,  methought 
menys  myndys  were  so  ferre  from  the,  and  I  trowe  and 
thou  haddist  not  take  that  way  as  thou  dideste  it  hade 
never  be  brought  abowte. 


2%^.  As  sone  as  I  can  gete  eny  leysure  I  shall  certefye  the 
of  all  the  maters  that  be  done  here,  the  which  I  wolde 
have  done  att  this  tyme  yff  I  myght  for  besynes. 


2^9.  I  wolde  thynke  thou  woldest  do  me  a  great  pleasur 
yf  thou  se  this  pension  paide  to  my  frende  of  that  money 
that  thou  shalt  receyve  here,  the  which  was  owede  to  hym 
the  yere  passede,  for  though  I  myght  have  taken  it  to 
many  that  cam  to  the  fro  hens  yet  I  coulde  not  be  sure  of  it 
nother  yet  coulde  not  do  it  withoute  coste.  Wherfore  when 
thiselfe  maist  do  it  at  ease  withoute  eny  lost,  I  pray  the  do  it. 


2go.  I  knowe  by  thy  last  letters  that  it  was  no  small  love 
that  thou  haddist  to  me  for  thei  were  as  full  of  swetnes  of 
thi  part  as  they  coulde  be  and  shewdist  utterly  thy  goode 
mynde  to  me,  but  moste  of  all  in  the  last  ende  of  them 
wheras  thou  writest  that  thou  hast  payde  the  money  that 
I  borowde.  doubte  the  not  it  shall  not  be  longe  or  thou 
have  it  agayne  with  great  thankes. 


2gi.  William,  thyne  owne  mann  and  also  myn,  when  he 
hade  come  to  me  very  late  in  the  nyght  and  saide  that  he 


70  EPISTOLARY  SCRAPS 

wolde  departe  the  next  day  very  erly,  I  tolde  hym  I 
wolde  sende  letters  unto  the  and  prayede  hym  that  he 
sholde  aske  them.  I  wrote  them  in  the  nyght  and  he  came 
not  agayn.  I  trowe  he  hade  forgete  them.  Notwith/ 
stondynge,  I  have  sent  them  by  myn  owne  servaunt  to  the, 
but  he  tolde  me  the  next  day  thou  wolde  departe  oute  of 
thy  heritage. 


2g2.  I  have  ben  aqueyntede  a  longe  season  with  sulpice 
brother  callede  symprony  the  which  shall  delyver  my 
letters  to  the. 


2g^.  Forsothe,  I  se  that  I  am  greatly  belovede  of  the  ffor 
because  that  thou  sendist  ij  letters  to  me  by  the  Cariar  the 
last  weke,  but  I  am  sory  that  he  that  brought  them  came  to 
me  when  I  sholde  sytt  downe  to  souper,  but  after  that  I 
understode  of  his  comyng  I  arose  anone  and  wrote  to  the 
onn  letter  in  the  which  thou  shalt  knowe  all  my  mynde. 

2g/{.  The  day  after  I  come  to  Oxforde,  the  Cariar  brought 
me  a  letter  from  the  which  at  that  tyme  I  coulde  not  gyve 
answer  to  all  thynges  as  I  wolde  and  as  thou  desirest.  for 
in  goode  faith  I  hade  so  litell  leysure  that  I  coulde  not  do 
suche  maters  as  thou  woldest  have  me  to  do.  therfor  I 
have  sent  the  worde  in  thies  letters  that  I  have  done  all 
thynges  that  thy  letters  made  mencioun  of,  and  I  trust  to 
thy  pleasure. 

2^5.  I  have  receyvede  a  letter  from  my  father  and  mother 
within  this  iij  dais  or  iiij  at  farest  by  the  which  I  undrestode 


EPISTOLARY  SCRAPS  7i 

that  they  thought  that  I  was  negligent  for  because  I  sent 
them  nonn  ofter  worde  by  letters  of  myn  helth.  notwith/ 
stondynge,  I  was  not  to  be  blamede  for  ther  past  no  mann 
by  me  which  that  I  thought  shulde  cum  to  them  but  I 
sent  letters  by  them. 

2^6.  I  wolde  not  suffre  the  Cariar  to  go  into  thy  contrey 
withoute  my  letters  to  the,  whose  pleasure  thoue  haste 
provede  for  because  thoue  sendist  no  letters  to  me  by  the 
cariar  commynge  agayn  to  Oxforde.  forsothe,  by  thy 
licence  that  I  may  say  it,  thou  hast  done  unkyndely  and 
ungentely  when  thou  sendist  letters  to  other  men  and  none 
to  me,  and  forgettith  me,  onn  of  thi  best  frendes. 

2gj.  I  marvell  greatly,  John,  that  this  longe  while  I  hade 
no  letters  from  the,  nother  so  moche  as  a  tokyn,  the  which 
and  thou  haddist  remembrede  the  right  well  it  sholde  have 
made  me  to  remembre  the  the  more,  at  the  lest  way,  it 
sholde  have  causede  me  to  thynke  that  I  hade  be  in  thi 
remembrance  and  not  forgetyn. 

2^8.  I  have  longe  waytede  for  letters  from  the  and  that  in 
vayn,  for  in  goode  faith  and  thoue  knewst  how  moch 
goode  thei  do  me  thou  woldest  not  kepe  so  great  a  pleasure 
fro  me,  for,  and  I  sholde  not  lye,  ther  is  no  greater  a 
pleasur  to  me.  therfor,  I  pray  the,  and  thou  couldest  do 
it,  to  make  me  evyn  full  of  them. 

2gg.  I  wyll  go  to  the  cariar  for  to  wytt  (or,  know)  whether 
he  hath  delyverde  a  cople  of  letters  that  I  toke  hym  the  last 
weke  to  here  to  an  speciall  frende.  I  know  for  a  suerty  they 


7-2  EPISTOLARY  SCRAPS 

shal  be  welcome  when  he  hath  receyvede  them,  many 
thynges  I  specifide  therin  which  wyll  please  hym  (or,  be 
to  hys  pleasure)  and  certayne  thynges  I  have  lefte  oute 
which  I  wyll  shew  be  mowth  (or,  in  presens)  when  he  is 
cum  to  towne. 


^00.  I  have  receyvede  ij  letters  fro  the  writtyn  onn  maner 
wyse,  the  which  methought  it  was  a  tokenn  of  thi 
diligence,  for  I  undrestonde  that  thou  didest  labor  that 
letters  that  I  longe  lokyde  after  sholde  be  brought  unto 
me.  of  the  which  I  hade  double  profytt  in  comparicioun. 
harde  for  me  to  juge  whether  I  sholde  make  more  of  thy 
love  to  me/wards  or  off  thy  goode  wyll  to  the  comyn^- 
welthe. 


501.  This  day  iiij  days  I  hade  a  letter  from  the  the  which 
made  me  very  glade,  for  it  was  writen  in  them  that  thou 
didest  purpose  to  have  come  and  sen  me  or  thys  tyme.  the 
which  yf  thou  haddist  done  thou  couldest  not  have  done 
me  a  greater  pleasure,  but  thou  makist  me  as  sory  now  as 
I  was  glade  before  bycause  thou  camyst  not  at  the  day 
apoyntede.  and  withoute  I  knewe  that  thou  woldist  come* 
shortly  I  sholde  be  more  sory. 


^02.  The  seconde  day  of  septembre  I  receyvede  a  letter  fro 
the  by  the  whiche  I  understode  that  thou  sholdist  departe 
oute  of  Oxforde  shortly.  In  goode  faith,  I  was  sorye  when 
I  redde  it,  and  not  withoute  a  cause,  for  I  shall  lake  a 
goode  companyon  of  the  with  whom  I  was  wonte  to  be 
mery  withall,  for  if  I  lackyde  ought,  aske  and  have.* 


EPISTOLARY  SCRAPS  73 

505.  Thy  brothers  letters  the  which  I  receyvede  of  the 
Cariare  the  day  before  that  he  went  towardes  londonn 
pleasede  me  well,  but  I  am  very  sory  that  he  hath  taryde  so 
longe  from  us  because  that  I  have  wantyde  the  great 
pleasure  of  his  conversacioun,  but  I  am  very  glade  [that]* 
he,  beynge  absent,  hath  getyn  all  thyng  at  his  pleasur  with 
great  worshipe. 

^04.  I  hade  come  agayne  iij  days  agone  but  I  was  taryde 
with  certeyn  men  of  myn  acquentance,  nother  I  coulde  not 
gete  away  by  no  mean.  In  goode  feith  and  I  shall  not  lye, 
they  taride  me  with  my  wyll,  for  ever  they  have  ben  to  me 
speciall  frendes  and  we  have  ben  asundre  a  great  while. 

505.  I  thonke  the  as  hertely  as  I  can  thynke  for  the  great 
chere,  gentylnes,  and  goode  fare  that  thou  madist  me  the 
last  tyme  that  I  was  with  the.  for  I  shall  say  trouth  and 
flater  not  a  whitt:  I  have  ben  in  many  places  where  I  have 
ben  welcome  and  hade  great  chere;  better  chere  than  thou 
madist  me  I  hade  never  of  no  mann.  And  yf  it  please  the 
to  come  in  this  contrey,  I  wyl  not  promyse  the  so  great 
chere,  but  thou  shall  have  suche  as  I  can. 


■^tjbf^KS»^fS^-^fSi^^tS^tfS:j9^XfS»^KS3!t^fS^^ 


polite  anb  impolite  Conbets>ation 

^06.  I  was  purposede  yesternyght  to  speke  to  the  of  a 
thyng  prively  but  today,  by  my  trouth  and  yf  thou  wylt 
beleve  me,  I  cannot  tell  what  it  was.  loo,  what  a  wytt  I 
have! 


74       POLITE   AND   IMPOLITE   CONVERSATION 

^O'j.  Ye  be  welcome,  wyll  it  please  youe  to  sytt  or  stonde 
be  the  fyre  a  litell  while  ?  the  nyghtes  be  prety  and  colde* 
now.  a  roste  apple  ye  shall  have,  andfenell  seede.*  Mor  we 
wyl  not  promyse  youe. 


^oZ.  Ther  is  no  mann  more  welcom  or  more  gladesum. 
felows,  take  in  (or,  brynge  in)  this  gentlemann*  to  oure 
maistre.  I  muste  go  call  a  certen  stranger,  but  I  wyl  not 
tarry.  I  wyll  pluke  upe  my  gown  and  renne,  in  feith, 
every  fote  for  youre  sake. 


50^.  John,  I  cannot  expresse  in  wordys  how  glade  I  was 
whan  I  herde  tell  thou  was  comyn  to  town  that  I  myght 
make  the  sum  cher  after  my  power,  for  such  as  thou 
madist  me  I  cannot,  but  whatsoever  it  be  thou  shalt  have 
it  with  a  goode  wyll,  and  so  I  pray  the  to  thynke. 


^10.  Howebeit  that  I  was  goynge  another  way  before  I 
mett  with  the,  yete  now  bycause  we  have  be  longe  asundre 
we  wyll  not  so  shortely  depart  but  I  wyll  lay  all  thynges 
asyde  and  goo  with  youe  whethersoever  ye  wyll  have  me 
to  make  mery,  for  I  thanke  youe  for  my  great  chere  that 
ye  made  me  at  home  when  I  was  laste  with  youe,  for  I 
am  so  moch  beholdenn  to  youe  and  to  yours  and  specially 
to  your  wyffe  that  I  can  never  make  youe  amendes. 


511.  —  Loo,  I  am  Cum. 

—  ye  be  welcum.  but  suffre  me,  I  pray  youe,  nowe  to 
wrytt  oute  a  letter  that  I  have  begone,  and  it  be  no  payn  to 


POLITE  AND   IMPOLITE   CONVERSATION       75 

youe.  ye,  and  cum  agayn  tomorowe  at  the  same  tyme;  ye 
shall  have  attendance  with  all  corage^  and  diligence. 


^12.  It  is  shame  to  speke  it,  John,  how  thou  haste  be/ 
havede  thyselfe  yesterday  emonge  thy  company. 


p^. —  How  solde  the  bookeseller  this  booke,  I  pray  the  ? 
—  surely  better  chepe  then  thou  peraventure  wolde  sett 
it  that  it  coste. 


ji^.  As  I  was  chepynge  of  a  booke,  ther  cam  onn  that 
proferde  mor  than  I  and  bought  it  oute  of  my  handes. 


515.  Ther  was  onn  of  the  strangers  of  courte  that  wer  at 
evynsonge  yesternyght  at  oure  church  that  lokede  on  me 
excedyngly,  for  he  never  turnede  his  ey.  truly  I  thynke  I 
have  ben  acquentyde  with  hym  yf  I  coulde  brynge  it  to 
my  mynde  in  what  cuntrey. 


p6.  Haste  not  thou  known  afore  this  the  man  that  we 
mett  yesterday  at  afternone  as  we  walkede  into  the  feldes  ? 
forsoth,  as  they  say,  he  is  of  great  reputacion  emongest  the 
best  spede  and  the  noblest  men  of  this  universite  and  as 
I  have  herde  oftyn  tymes  say,  not  withoute  a  cause,  for/ 
soth,  but  for  his  great  cunnynge  and  his  noble  vertuse. 

'  coragc:  spirit,  heart. 


76       POLITE  AND   IMPOLITE   CONVERSATION 

^1'].  Iff  thou  remembre  when  wc  were  last  together  we 
hade  comunicacion  of  a  certayn  manys  lurnynge,  on  the 
which  I  was  movede  by  thy  great  praysyng  that  thou 
gavest  hym.  I  wenyde  it  hade  be  moche  more  than  it  is  in 
very  dede.  but  I  trowe  thou  didest  praise  hym  for  great 
love,  for  love  ever  augmentith*  many  thynges. 


ji^.  These  ij  that  be  brethern  of  onn  birthe  be  so  lyke 
both  in  maners  and  connynge  that  I  wote  not  whom  I 
sholde  juge  better  then  other. 


^ig.  I  most  ryde  within  this  ij  or  iij  dais,  yf  I  may  gett  me 
a  hors,  into  my  Cuntrey  for  many  errandes  that  I  have  to 
done,  but  as  they  say  they  dye  sore  uponn  the  pestelence 
ther,  wherfor  I  fere  me  to  hye  to  fast  thyderwarde  tyll  I  her 
other  tydynges. 


^20.  I  suppose  that  no  weke  in  all  my  lyff  I  have  benn 
more  besy  than  I  have  ben  this  weke  now  passyde,  for  why 
ther  was  no  day  but  I  passide  over  the  teamys^  ij  tymes  at 
the  lest,  iiij  tymes  at  the  most,  for  to  go  by  londe  it  was  to 
diseasfuU,  wher  the  way  was  longer  and  also  durty. 


^21.  The  roffe  of  an  olde  house  hade  almoste  fall  onn  me 
yesterday,  and  onn  of  my  felows  hade  not  callede  me  oute 
in  seasonn  I  hade  not  skapede  alyve,  for  I  was  no  sonner 
oute  but  it  fell  downe. 

*  teamys:  Thames. 


POLITE  AND   IMPOLITE   CONVERSATION       77 

^22.  I  saw  never  man  have  so  sowre  a  looke  and  be  so 
well  favorede. 


^2^.  Go  into  the  gardyn  and  gader  sum  floures  to  sett  in 
our  wyndowe. 

P4.  Pluke  upe  thes  weedes*  by  the  rottes  and  make  us  a 
clenn  gardyn. 

525.  As  I  walkede  be  the  woode  side  I  herde  a  thrushe 
synge  merely  and  the  blake  osell  and  the  nyghtyngall. 

^26.  I  have  a  kybe  onn  my  right  hele  wherfor  I  cannot  do 
onn  my  shoys,  yete  I  were  them  like  sleppers. 

527.  Touch  me  not,  thou  horson,*rorandifthoudothou 
shalte  repent  it. 

^2$.  Whether  away  ?  have  ye  eny  great  hast  ?  take  a  knave 
with  youe  or  ye  go,  I  pray  youe,  for  alonn  is  withoute 
conforte,  and  rather  then  ye  sholde  go  withoute  eny  mann 
I  myselfe  wyll  waite  upon  youe. 

^2g.  —  Whether  gost  thou  ? 

—  sumwhether,  thou  maist  well  wyte.  but  what  is  that 
to  the  > 

—  I  wolde  wyte. 

—  I  wyll  tell  the  when  I  cum  agayn. 


78        POLITE   AND   IMPOLITE   CONVERSATION 

550.  What  hast  thou  to  do  with  me  ?  It  is  mery  that  thou 
sholdyst  wyte  whether  I  goo. 


jji.*  —  Whether  away? 

—  to  the  mylle. 

—  What  to  do,  a  godys  name  ? 

—  lett"^  me  not,  for  I  here  hevy  and  have  far  to  go.  sest 
thou  not  what  a  sake  of  corne  I  here  in  my  neke  for  fawte 
of  an  horse  >.  and  yete  I  have  ij  myle  to  goo. 

—  Marye,  thou  hast  quytt  the  well  that  thoue  hast 
gotyn  the  suche  a  service  wher  thou  most  do  the  office 
both  of  beste  and  of  mann! 

—  abyde  a  while  here.  I  come  agayne  anone  when  my 
corne  is  grounde,  for  I  moste  hye  me  home  in  all  the 
haste. 

—  Why,  I  praye  youe  J 

—  for  we  have  not  onn  mussell  of  brede  to  ete  at  home, 
and  ther  be  many  mowthes. 

—  shall  what  brede^  do  for  suche  a  knave  as 
thou  arte?  wyll  not  peese  and  benys  serve  the?  rotes 
of  herbys  is  to  goode  for  the.  brede  sholde  serve  for  free 
menn. 

—  how,  who  is  lorde  of  this  house? 

—  mary,  sir,  I  have  the  rule  therof  and  care  for  all 
thynges  that  is  done  here  while  the  lorde  therof  is  away, 
may  my  service  do  youe  eny  pleasure  ? 

—  First  of  all,  lett  me  in. 

—  It  shal  be  done  with  a  goode  wyll. 

—  what  mete  hast  thou  that  wolde  gyve  a  mann  a 
corrage  to  ete  ? 

^  lett:  hinder. 

^  what  brede:  wheaten  bread;  see  note. 


POLITE  AND   IMPOLITE  CONVERSATION       79 

—  I  have  many  kyndes  of  metes,  as  sprottes^  tailys, 
herynge  cobbys,^  and  salt  elys  skynns.  ye  shall  chose  what 
wyll  please  youe  best. 

—  what,  mokest  thou  me  ?  I  say,  gete  forth  sum  other 
mete,  I  avyse  the,  lest  thou  have  a  shrewde  turne. 

—  wyll  youe  eny  freshe  water  fyshe  J 

—  yee,  mary! 

—  forsoth,  ye  sholde  have  if  eny  were  lefte,  but  ther  is 
great  crafte  in  the  cachynge  of  them. 

—  what,  mokest  thou  me  agayne  ? 

—  mary,  gode  forbyde  I  sholde  moke  suche  a  worship/ 
full  man  as  ye  be. 


552.*  —  What  ye  sir!  ye  be  welcomm  home,  how  have  ye 
faryde  this  many  a  day? 

—  Well,  thankede  be  gode,  and  I  am  verey  glade 
that  ye  fare  well.  I  have  myst  my  goode  companyons 
a  great  while  and  was  almost  waxinge  seke  for  long-* 
ynge  after  them,  but  how  doth  oure  goode  Antoney? 
In  feith,  he  is  the  gentylyst  that  ever  I  was  acqueyntyde 
withall. 


555.  I  wolde  be  glade  to  waite  upon  youe  to  gyve  youe 
youre  welcome  to  Towne. 


55^.  What  contrey  man  shall  I  call  youe,  I  pray  youe? 
I  have  sen  youe  oftentymes,  but  wher  I  cannot  tell  now. 
be  not  ye  my  contrey  man?  truly  ye  be.  the  more  I  loke 

*  sprottes:  sprats.  *  cobbys:  heads. 


80       POLITE  AND   IMPOLITE   CONVERSATION 

Upon  youe  mesemeth  ye  be,  or  ellys  I  take  my  merke 
amysse. 


555.*  —  I  am  avisede^  to  cast  my  shone  away  upon  sum 
dongehyll  that  beggars  may  fynde  them  sone,  excepte 
thei  wyll  serve  my  brother  bycause  his  fete  be  lesse  than 
myn.  for  olde  shone  sytt  shrodely  onn  onys  feet.  I  wolde 
thei  were  hole^  in  his  bely,  so  gode  me  helpe,  that 
first  shapyde  them,  for  onys  thei  be  so  narowe  that  I 
have  moche  care  to  gete  them  on,  thei  wrynge  my  tose 
cursedly. 

—  yete  cast  not  away  thyn  olde  by  myne  advyce  tyll 
thou  be  sure  of  newe.  thou  maist  hape  to  go  barefote  than, 
and  that  thou  woldist  be  loth  to  do.  Fare  faire  and  softly 
with  thiselfe  and  take  it  not  so  bote,  be  content  to  were 
suche  gere  as  sitteth  for  your  Estate.  Thynke  thou  maist 
not  go  like  a  lorde  for  whye  thou  hast  not  wherwithall  to 
here  it  owte. 

—  Why  doste  thou  rebuke  me  for  that  or  cast  it  in  my 
teth  that  coste  the  nought  nor  hast  nothynge  to  do  withall  J 
I  wyll  were  my  gere  as  me  liste  while  I  am  myn  owne  man 
and  payeth  therfore  as  another  mann  doth,  tell  me,  who 
shall  say  me  nay?  I  awe  the  noughte,  nor  comyth  to  the 
to  borowe.  I  have  enoughe  of  myn  awne  (yf  every  man 
hade  his)  to  fynde  me  while  I  lyffe.  And  if  my  money  hape 
to  faile,  I  knowe  the  ways  how  to  gete  me  more  while  my 
handes  serve  me  as  thei  do. 

—  mary,  sir,  I  lett  the  not.  gete  money  as  the  pleasith,  so 
thou  cum  nyghe  none  of  myn.  for  and  thou  do,  do  it 
while  I  am  away,  that  I  knowe  it  never,  for  and  I  espye 

^  avisede:  determined.  ^  hole:  whole. 


POLITE  AND   IMPOLITE   CONVERSATION       8l 

the,  thou  shalt  not  go  maide^  away,  yee,  or  stele  it  for  a 
nede,  and  thou  wilt,  yf  thou  fynde  eny  ease  therin,  and 
yf  youe  be  hangyde  therto,  lete  hym  care  first  for  me  that 
first  shall  repent. 

—  thou  bestowest  thi  labour  shrodely  that  labourest  all 
day  and  takest  no  wages.  It  wolde  greve  me  as  evyll  as  to 
love  and  not  to  be  lovede  agayne. 

556".  —  I  am  excellent  of  strenght.  I  marvell  why  the  kynge 
commaundith  not  me  to  be  sent  for  that  I  may  here  his 
standerde. 

—  What  sir,  what  do  ye  >  methinkyth  ye  praise  your/ 
self 

331'  [^-l*  I  cannot  be  in  rest  for  this  comberus^  boye. 
therfor  I  wyll  goo  my  way  evyn  streight. 

T.  Nay,  tarey  a  lide  while  tyll  it  be  ix  at  cloke  and  I 
wyll  go  with  youe, 

I.  Why,  it  is  past  ix  allredy,  I  trow,  for  the  cloke 
stroke  evyn  now. 

T.  spekist  thou  in  ernyst  or  in  jape  ?  I  wolde  it  were  as 
thoue  saist. 

55^.  I  am  aferyde  to  bide  at  home  with  the  for  I  was 
forbyde  thy  company  as  though  thou  haddist  ben  the 
myschevyste  felowe  on  lyve. 

55^.  This  jakenapys  thrugh  his  popeholynes^  thynkith 

to  be  more  sett  by  than  all  us. 

'  maide:  untouched  {imltus).  ^  comberus:  troublesome. 

^  popeholynes:  pretended  piety. 

6773  G 


82        POLITE  AND   IMPOLITE   CONVERSATION 

^40.  Ther  is  never  an  unthryfte  in  this  town  but  thou  art 
aqueyntede  with  him. 


^41 .  Knewe  ye  not  afore  what  maner  a  man,  as  yet,  I  am  ? 
be  gode,  ye  shall  or  ye  go,  for  I  shall  tech  all  such  as  thou 
art  to  beware  how  thei  bakebyte^  hereafter  eny  man. 


542.  I  marvell  greatly  wherfor  thou  art  angry  with  me.  I 
take  gode  and  mann  to  recorde  that  I  was  never  cause 
to  displease  the. 


^4^.  Ye  shall  not  play  the  churle  with  me  the  nexte  tyme 
that  I  wayt  on  youe.  for  I  se  well  nowe,  yf  a  man  do  a  goode 
turne  he  shall  have  a  shrewde  for  it. 


^44.  I  am  sory  that  I  have  done  ever  so  moche  for  the 
when  I  fynde  the  so  ungentyll  agayne  to  me  in  my  nedys. 


5^5.  I  waxe  wery  of  the,  John,  and  wyll  cum  no  more  in 
thi  felishipe  while  I  have  a  day  to  lyve,  withoute  thoue 
take  another  waye.  For  thou  art  pert  oute  of  measure,  and 
thou  kepe  thyne  olde  guyse  and  takyst  upon  the  a  lordys 
rome  whithersoever  thou  becomyste. 


^46.  John,  in  every  company  that  thou  comyst  in  thou 
crakyste^  moche  of  thy  gyftes  that  thou  hast  gevyn  to  me, 

'  bakebyte:  backbite,  slander.  ^  crakyste:  braggest. 


POLITE  AND   IMPOLITE   CONVERSATION       83 

that  a  mann  may  be  wery  to  here  of  it.  I  trow  if  thou 
lokeste  well  aboute  the  I  have  gevyn  the  as  many  and  moo. 
but  I  lete  that  passe,  for  ther  is  nothynge  that  grevyth  me 
but  ofte  rehersyng  of  it.  for  as  the  sayng  of  Therence*  is, 
*Ofte  rehersynge  of  a  thynge  is  but  an  upbraydynge  of  a 
mann  that  rememberith  not  who  hath  don  for  hym.* 


^4j.  Ther  is  nothynge  that  grevyth  me  mor  then  the  daily 
umbraydynge^  of  thy  gyftes  to  me.  I  hade  lever  never  be  in 
thy  daunger^  then  thou  shuldist  contynue  to  umbrayde  me 
thus. 


^48.  Ther  is  no  mann  that  I  wolde  desire  to  be  more  with 
than  with  the  yf  thou  woldest  leve  thi  great  roilynge^  and 
foule  spekynge,  for  if  thou  knewst  how  evyll  it  becomyth 
the,  I  am  sure  thou  woldest  leve  it.  but  as  Cicero*  saith,  I 
cannot  tell  howe  we  may  se  a  fawte  soner  in  another  mann 
than  in  oureselfe. 


^4g.  Methynke  I  ought  to  do  for'*  my  lech, 5  for  when  I  was 
seke  of  the  pestilence  nothynge  easyde  me  of  my  payn  but 
hys  mery  conforte.  I  trowe  no  mann  coulde  do  more 
attendance  to  another  then  he  dyde  to  me. 


55<).  Felowe,  thoue  art  welcome  home,  thanke  be  to 
almygty  gode  thou  were  not  vexede  with  no  seknes 

'  umbraydynge,  umbrayde:  upbraiding,  upbraid. 

2  daunger:  debt.  ^  roilynge:  vexatiousncss  (procacitate). 

*  do  for:  benefit;  see  i_jj.  *  \^}^.  physician. 


84       POLITE  AND   IMPOLITE   CONVERSATION 

sithen  thou  wentist  into  the  contrey.  but  onn  thynke^ 
grevyth  me  sore,  that  I  understode  of  onn  of  my  goode 
frendes  that  thou  thretist  me  hurte.  but  beware,  I  say 
beware,  lest  whils  thoue  goste  abowt  to  do  me  hurte  thou 
hurtiste  thyselfe  greatly. 

55^.  Ther  be  many  lordes  that  cannot  pley  the  lorde,  but 
I  that  am  none  can  pley  it  rially.^  It  is  pite  that  I  am  non 
in  very  dede.  for  while  other  men  blouth  the  fyre,*  I  slepe 
styll  be  I  never  so  ofte  callede  upon. 

552.  I  hade  nede  to  beware,  Thomas,  for  thy  sake  upon 
whom  I  cum  hereafter  to  fight,  for  oure  strenghtes  were 
fare  unlyke,  for  thou  Clowtiste  me  so  aboute  the  hede  and 
aboute  the  chekys  with  thy  fiste  that  thou  madist  my 
hede  bolne^  and  all  my  face  almoste  to  be  swolne.  thou 
art  not  to  be  blamyde  for  I  begane  upon  the  myselff. 

555.  I  was  so  angre  yesterday  with  onn  for  his  knappysh'* 
wordes  that  I  was  so  stoynede^  that  unneth^  I  coulde  utter 
eny  worde  in  english  or  in  latyn.  I  went  my  way  verey 
shamefast,  but  I  promytt'^  hym  and  ever  I  mete  hym  here/ 
after  he  shall  not  scape  my  hondes  qwyte.^ 

55^.  YfF  it  were  as  moche  for  my  profytt  as  for  thin  that 
the  best  menu  sholde  rule  the  comynwele  I  wolde  advyse 

'  thynke:  thing.  ^  rially:  royally. 

3  bolne:  swollen;  see  note. 

*  knappysh:  testy.  '  stoynede:  astonished. 

^  unneth:  scarcely.  '  promytt:  promise. 

^  qwyte:  without  punishment  (impune). 


POLITE  AND   IMPOLITE   CONVERSATION       85 

that  in  the  election  of  officers  such  cheffly  sholde  be 
avansede,  all  other  laide  apart,  but  forasmoche  as  I  have 
so  orderyde  my  lyff,  fro  the  begynnyng  of  my  age,  that  it  is 
harder  for  me  then  for  the  to  lyve  fawtles,  it  is  not  to  be 
marveylyde  yf  I  hade  lever  that  suche  here  a  rule  as  I  know- 
be  more  like  me  then  the. 


tKS»'KKSbr^fS:3^tKS»-^KS»-^fSbi''^a»^ia^^^ 


a  Wimttv  of  0h^tx\)utiom 

^^^.  Rayn  water  that  comyth  from  the  house  roffe,  drop^ 
pynge  from  tyle  to  tyle  by  the  gutters  and  thorughe  the 
ledyn  pypys,  men  say  is  goode  for  scriveners  crafte.  therof 
thei  make  ynke. 

J5^.  Not  only  birdes  that  here  fethers  ley  Egges  and  sett 
them  abrode^  and  hatche  them,  as  the  hen  sitteth  abrode 
and  hatcheth  chekyns,  but  also  ther  be  other  bestes,  yf  we 
beleve  auctours,^  as  serpentes,  that  brynge  forthe  after  the 
same  maner.  It  is  a  mervelous  thynge  that  of  the  hete  of  the 
dame  the  stream  of  bloode  beynge  within  the  Egge  sholde 
growe  to  a  thynge  of  lyffe,  but  it  sholde  not  be  marvelide 
of  the  crafty  werke  of  nature. 

557.  It  deliteth  sum  menn  to  lye  in  Fether  beddys,  sum 
in  materasses,  sum  in  floke^  beddys,  every  man  after  his 
pleasur. 

*  abrode:  (abrood),  hatching.  ^  auctours:  authorities. 

2  floke:  stuffed  with  wool. 


86  A  VARIETY  OF   OBSERVATIONS 

55^.  Pore  men  lacke  many  thynges,  the  which  when  they 
have  gote  mete  for  ther  dyner  moste  go  strete  by  strete 
to  seche  brede  and  drynke. 


55^.  Olde  menn  that  may  not  well  go  onn  ther  fete  muste 
have  a  stafFe  to  here  upe  ther  feble  lymmys  with. 


^6o.  Many  Childrenn  were  no  shoys^  tyll  thei  be  xiij  or 
xij  yere  olde  at  leste.  Whose  fete  be  longe  contynuance  of 
tyme  be  so  harde  that  thoughe  they  go  over  thornes, 
brers,  and  sharpe  stones  yet  thei  fele  no  payne. 


j6i.  I  have  herde  agyde  men  say  oftyntymes  that  thei 
lyvede  never  a  meriar  lyfFe  than  thei  lyvede  when  thei  wer 
childern,  for  though  thei  be  at  their  liberte  and  have 
money  enoughe  when  thei  be  at  manys  state  or  els*  in  age 
yete  thei  have  many  mo  thynges  to  care  for. 

^62.  I  kepe  not,  nowe  that  I  am  a  man,  the  same  condi/ 
cions  that  I  was  wonte  to  whan  I  was  a  childe,  and  first 
and  formyst  I  put  myselfe  in  presse^  no  mor  nother  medle 
me  with  other  mennys  maters. 


^6^.  Ther  is  noo  cryme  nor  fawte  that  is  knowen  but  ther 
is  a  remedy  for  it  in  the  lawe,  how  it  shal  be  punyshide. 
for  ever  as  eny  new  hurtes  or  myschevous  wer  donn,  they 

^  shoys:  shoes.  ^  in  presse:  forward. 


A  VARIETY   OF   OBSERVATIONS  87 

made  new  lawes,  and  in  their  makynge  they  dide  very 
wisely,  for  they  never  forbade  nothynge  that  was  un/ 
knowen,  considerynge  that,  as  the  poet*  saith,  a  mann  is 
ever  redy  to  do  that  that  he  is  forbyde. 

^64,  It  is  a  pitefuU  case  to  here  the  deth  of  men  other  in 
pestilence  or  in  eny  other  seknes,  but  how  great  a  greff  is  it 
more  to  se  a  man  drownde  hymselfe,  hange  hymselfe,  or 
slee  hymselfe  with  eny  yron.  for  in  other  dethys  it  is  to  be 
thought  that  a  man  hath  sum  repentance  for  his  synnes  or 
offences  but  in  this  maner  of  deth  it  is  harde  to  conjecture 
thorughe  whose  mevyng'  a  man  shulde  chaunge  lyffe  for 
deth. 


565.  It  is  reason  for  every  mann  that  goth  forth  onn  pil/ 
grimageto  have  absolucioun  both  of  synne  and  of  payne.* 

^66.  The  gloriouse  martir  saynt  laurence,  which  made 
no  stykkynge  for  to  take  upon  hym  to  sufFre  or  abyde  the 
most  cruell  tormentes  for  godes  sake,  the  wodnesse  of  the 
Tirant  and  thretnynge  movede  not  hym,  yee,  and  more/ 
over,  when  his  sides  were  brennyde  with  brynnynge  plates 
of  yern,  when  he  enduryde  other  tormentes  and  at  the  last 
he  was  put  onn  the  grydeyern  as  ye  knowe,  he,  mery  and 
lusty,  thankede  gode  that  thrugh  his  grace  he  coulde 
deserve  so  (or,  in  suche  wyse)  to  enter  the  yates  of  hevyn. 

567.  The  gostely  fathers  ought  to  pondre  well  howe 
great  the  synnes  be  of  them  that  be  shryven,  and  as  thei 

'  mevyng:  moving,  impulse. 


88  A  VARIETY  OF   OBSERVATIONS 

have  deservede  so  to  joyne^  them  fastynge,  almesdede,  or 
prayer,  the  which  thynges  put  away  synnes. 


j68.  It  is  but  a  litell  wynnynge^  (nay,  nay,  not  a  whitt) 
wher  men  sell  no  derer  than  they  bye  but  rather  better 
Chepe.  For  a  merchande  that  lyveth  by  his  merchandyse 
but  withoute  great  encrease^  (or,  great  availe)  he  may  not 
holde  his  owne,  but  he  boroweth  money  and  comyth  so 
fere  in  dett  that  he  is  never  hable  to  paye  it. 


569.*  —  I  came  yesterday  into  a  Chambre  that  was  both 
clen  and  also  propire,  havynge  nothynge  that  shulde  dis/ 
content  your  ey.  ther  in  the  hangynge  this  was  payntide: 
ther  stode  saynt  Johan  with  his  camellys  skyne  onn  hym, 
and  aboute  hym  on  this  side  and  that  side  wylde  beestes 
and  foulys  of  many  and  diverse  fascion. 

—  what  wer  they  ?  I  besech  youe,  tell  us. 

—  I  shall,  befor  the  sayntes  feete  ther  lay  a  styll  lion 
couchynge,  be  hym  a  myghty  boore  puttynge  downe  the 
starynge'^  of  his  bristelles,  beside  that  an  eliphant  lenyng  to 
a  tree*  turnyng  upe  his  trumpe,  forthright  agaynst  hym  the 
wolfe  and  the  here  lokynge  onn  the  grownde.  the  unicorn 
and  the  antloppe  helde  ther  erys  afare  of  and  dide  in  a 
maner  herkyn.  I  spyede  also  the  squerell  commynge  forth 
oute  of  an  hole  of  an  oke. 

—  ye  have  shewde  us  well  the  maner  (or,  kyndys)  of 
beestes.  now  shewe  us  another  while  the  kyndys  (or, 
maner)  of  birdys. 

'  joyne:  enjoin.  ^  wynnynge:  profit. 

3  cncrease,  i.e.  in  price.        *  starynge:  standing  on  end,  ruffling. 


A  VARIETY  OF   OBSERVATIONS  89 

—  verely  and  I  shulde  not  lye,  I  know  them  not  beside 
the  pelicane  and  the  popyngay.  ther  was  on  that  sprede 
his  wynges.  I  wote  not  whether  it  were  an  Egle  for  because 
a  goode  meany^  of  the  shadow  of  the  small  bowys  dyde 
hyde. 


^'jo.  The  conyngar  a  mann  is,  the  more  nede  he  hath  to 
beware  what  eligance  he  useth  to  sum  menn,  for  many 
tymes  when  thei  cannot  bolte^  oute  the  trewe  sentence^  they 
interpretate  to  the  worst  that  that  thou  writest  of  very 
lovyng  mynde. 


^"ji.  It  is  full  harde  to  please  all  menn,  for  sum  be  so 
dangerous"^  that  yf  a  mann  do  all  that  he  cann  he  cannot 
please  or  content  them. 


^']2.  The  madnes  of  many  men  is  so  great  that  excepte 
thei  were  put  in  fere  thorughe  sharpnes  of  ponyshment 
ther  sholde  be  nonn  so  grevous  a  myscheff  that  thei 
wolde  forbere. 


575.  Many  onn  goth  by  the  way  as  though  thei  hade  not 
on  peny  in  all  the  worlde,  and  yete  thei  be  worth  an  C  1, 
and  many  onn  takith  upon  them  as  thei  wer  lordes  and 
yet  the  devyll  may  daunce  in  ther  purse  for  eny  crose*  or 
quoyn  is  in  it.* 

*  meany:  many.  *  boltc:  sift,  find  out. 

3  sentence:  meaning.  *  dangerous:  captious  (morosi). 


90  A  VARIETY  OF   OBSERVATIONS 

3J4.  I  saw  yesterday  in  the  fair  many  off  myn  acquentance 
rially  apparelde,  goynge  with  cheynes  of  golde,  havynge 
by  their  brestes  great  nowchys^  with  golde,  perelys,  and 
pr[e]cious*  stonys,  yete  they  cam  but  of  a  low  stoke,  the 
which  maner  of  people  as  it  is  comynly  saide  when  they 
cum  to  honour  or  to  worshipe  be  moste  proudyst. 


^j^.  Ther  be  many  menn  in  englande  that  be  of  such 
condicyon  that  no  mann  may  do  them  a  more  greater 
pleasur  then  to  praise  their  dedys  in  other  menys  presence, 
for  that  they  desire  and  sett  bye,  and  of  the  contrary  wyse 
ther  can  nothynge  displease  and  greve  them  more  then  to 
blame  them  openly  off  their  dedys. 


^j6.  YfFall  thynge  hade  fortunede  after  my  mynde  I  hade 
ben  this  day  at  stirbrige  faire*  wher,  as  men  say,  a  man  may 
bye  better  chepe  than  enywher  ellys. 


^jj.  Methynke  that  merchanttes  gett  their  riches  and  their 
goodes  with  great  jeopardy  of  their  lyffes  and  namly  they 
that  be  wont  to  use  the  see,  for  when  ther  be  such  stormys 
in  the  see  as  was  trobelous  thys  nyght  they  scapyde  hardly 
with  their  lyffys. 


57^.  As  we  satt  by  the  fyre  yesternyght  when  the  great 
wynde  begane  to  arise  we  hade  a  comunicacioun^  of 
them  that  wer  in  the  see,  of  whome  we  hade  great  pite  to 

'  nowchys:  brooches,  buckles. 
^  comunicacioun:  talk. 


A  VARIETY  OF  OBSERVATIONS  91 

remembre  the  fere  and  drede  that  thei  were  in,  and  how 
thei  wer  tossede  and  caste  with  the  wawys.  for  they  lightly 
other  be  caste  undre  the  water  or  upon  a  rocke. 


%ts»ta»XKS»-^xS»-^xSi^ttss^-KKS»-K^^ 


379*  I  understonde  that  the  kynge  hath  commandyde 
ther  shall  no  man  go  into  flaunders  to  by  or  sell,  whether 
he  hath  criede  batell  with  them  or  not  I  cannot  tell. 
Furthermore  I  here  say  he  hath  a  garde  of  menn  about 
hym,  nother  he  gothe  never  oute  but  he  is  sett  aboute  with 
harnysede  menn.*  yf  it  be  so,  methynkith  he  doth  wysely 
for  it  is  no  doubte  a  princes  lyffe  is  suspiciouse  to  many 
menn  and  hatefuU  to  unthriftes. 


380.  On  of  oure  maisters  servantes  com  home  late  yester/ 
nyght  from  walys,  but  what  tydynges  he  hath  brought  I 
cannot  tell,  but  I  shall  wytt  when  he  and  I  have  lesur  to 
comyn  together. 


381.*  I  was  very  sory  for  the  pore  husbondes  in  my  con^ 
trey  when  I  say^  their  carefulnes  to  make  money  of  their 
stuffe  for  the  kynges  silver,  the  price  of  come  and  shepe 
and  of  all  bestes  is  abatyde  in  so  moch  that  they  sell  moche 
thynges  for  litell  Sylver. 

'  say:  saw. 


92  NEWS 

^82*  I  thynke  ther  is  no  man  alyve  that  can  remembre  that 
ever  he  se  whete  or  pese  other  Corne  or  eny  other  vitaile 
that  is  brought  to  the  market  to  be  solde  cheper  than  we 
se  nowe,  but  it  is  lesse  to  be  marvelyde  yf  a  man  take 
hede.  for  men  have  not  so  moch  money  as  thei  wer  wont, 
and  nowe  be  fayn  every  man  that  hath  ought  for  to  sell  to 
put  it  owte. 


565.*  All  maner  of  white  corne*  as  whete  and  barly  was 
never  solde  better  chepe  than  it  is  evyn  now  but  yete  it  is 
to  be  feryde  leste  it  wyll  not  so  another  yere.  for  in  many 
cuntrays  the  barly  lyeth  drye  in  the  grounde  and  never 
comyth  upe,  and  all  code  ware,^  as  men  say,  be  dissaytfuU 
in  their  coddys.^ 


^84.  This  fair  wether  after  the  troublenes  of  stormys  and 
continuacioun  of  rayns  makith  every  mann  glade  that 
loveth  his  owne  welth  or  the  comynewelth,  for  and  the 
wether  wer  as  stormye  as  it  begann  nor  hade  non  other 
wise  mesurede  hymself  it  wolde  have  benn  a  great  fere  of 
darth  of  all  maner  corne,  but  I  trust  now  this  temperate 
wether  shall  dry  upe  the  londe  agayne  that  menn  may  sowe 
as  well  as  they  were  wonte  to  do. 


555.  This  day  iij  days  dyede  a  certayn  aldermann  of 
londonn  off  a  consumptioun,  a  mann  in  all  his  lyfF  right 
honorable,  and  such  onn  whom  all  menn  gave  price  and 
pryke*  withoute  comparicioun. 

'  code  ware:  podded  produce.  *  coddys:  pods. 


NEWS  93 


386.*  I  wote  not  whether  it  be  more  wytt  or  boldnesse  to 
sett  upe  skafoldys  and  to  go  upe  to  the  tope  of  poulys"  and 
take  of  the  wethercoke  from  the  boUe^  that  it  is  fastynede 
in,  and  also  to  brynge  it  downe,  and  after  it  is  amendyde  to 
go  upe  agayn  and  sett  it  in  his  olde  place. 

5^7.  I  herde  say  that  ther  were  two  theves  put  to  deth 
yesterday  for  merdure.  and  yf  I  hade  be  war  befor  I  wolde 
have  bene  ther.  yet  it  was  tolde  me  that  ther  cam  a  com/ 
maundment  from  the  commyssarye*  that  no  man  payne 
of  presonment  shulde  cum  ther.  yete  I  am  sure  ther  were 
many. 
*  poulys:  St.  Paul's.  ^  boUe:  ball,  sphere. 


NOTES  TO  THE  TEXT 


1.  For  the  Latin  of  this  piece,  see  p.  loi. 

forth  dais:  late  in  the  day.  Cf  O.E.D.;  s.v.  'forth*,  4.  b. 

clothes:  painted  cloths  used  as  hangings. 
g.  It  is  a  worlde:  it  is  a  marvel  (opere  precium  est). 

dull  and  voide  of  connynge:  learning  {segniorem  ad  litteras  et  discipline 
vacuum). 

onn:  one,  the  same  (sine  qua  vitam  mortemque  iuxta  estimamus);  cf  Sallust, 
Bellum  Catilinae,  ii.  8:  'Eorum  ego  vitam  mortemque  iuxta  aestumo, 
quoniam  de  utraque  siletur.' 

15.  MS.  reads  'aprell  light*. 

ij.  goode  townes:  notable  or  important  towns  (urhes).  Cf  the  conven-* 
tional  usage  'good  ship*. 

20.  kybblayns:  chilblains  (O.E.D.,  1547). 

22.  disch  for  a  kynge:  the  earliest  use  cited  by  O.E.D.  is  in  Shakespeare*s 
Winter's  Tale  (iv.  iii.  8). 

24.  frumenty:  a  broth  made  of  meal  (jus  frumentatum). 

42.  MS.  reads  'I  that  have*. 

4g.  and:  if  In  this  manuscript,  both  'and*  and  'and  if*  are  often  used 
for 'if. 

lurcher:  one  vi^ho  forestalls  others  of  a  fair  share  of  food. 

51.  formalite;  ohseruanciam  (O.E.D.  1599). 

52.  For  the  Latin,  see  pp.  102-3. 

on  the  hede:  headlong,  without  consideration  (O.E.D.,  1555). 
lockyth:  lucketh  (the  obsolete  verb  'to  luck*  meaning  'to  chance*.  The 
Latin  is  euenit.)  See  no.  84. 
furthe  them  bett:  manage  to  beat  them.  Cf  O.E.D.  s.v.  'forth*  (vb.). 
[was  sent]:  MS.  omits  something  to  this  effect. 

5^.  the  next  faire:  at  Oxford,  this  would  be  St.  Giles,  early  in  Sep.* 
tember. 

57.  kyndest:  here  used  in  the  modern  acceptation  (propicii). 


NOTES  TO  THE  TEXT  95 

5^.  more  goodc  then  mete  or  drynke;  cf.  Tilley,  M842. 

64.  wardens:  an  old  variety  of  baking  pear  (volema). 

10.  at  sixe  and  sevyn:  cf.  Tilley,  A208;  O.D.E.P. 

72.  money  maketh  mariage:  cf.  Tilley,  M1074;  O.D.E.P. 

14.  what  fettes,  what  knakkes:  what  graceful  and  ingenious  contrivances 

(quid  leporis,  quos  sales). 

75.  sophistre:  logic,  the  third  subject  of  the  trivium. 

j8.  new  auctors:  modern  grammarians. 

82.  Begynnynge  is  more  than  halfe  the  worker  cf.  Tilley,  B254. 

5j.  groundes  of  Elygansies:  fundamentals  of  good  style  (fundamenta 
eloquencie). 

By.  englysh  tongue:  the  rules  of  most  sixteenth^century  grammar  schools 
forbade  the  boys  to  speak  English,  even  on  the  playing  fields. 

88.  letters:  here  used  in  the  general  sense  of  'themes'  (literas). 

^2.  frendes:  the  sense  here  is  'kinsmen'  (parentes). 

g^.  fals:  incorrealy  transcribed  (deprauati).  The  English  has  no  equiva-* 
lent  for  the  words  following  'deprauati  essent':  'aut  omnino  quidam 
eorum  non  deperiisent.' 

g^.  wynchester:  the  Wykehamist  College  of  St.  Mary  founded  to  pre^ 
pare  scholars  for  New  College. 

5)5.  hedynton:  Headington,  at  the  time  the  wood  nearest  Magdalen 
School. 

100.  gravandes:  greyhounds.  Cf  the  forms  'grahoundc'  and  'grifhoune' 
{O.E.D.).  Although  the  symbol  used  here  is  clearly  a  'v'  and  not  the 
usual  'u*  it  may  be  that  the  scribe  intended  'grauandes'  {O.E.D.  'graw/ 
bond*). 

101.  1  can  make  nothing  of  this  strange  story. 

102.  streightways:  MS.  reads  'every  streightways  on  of  them'. 
106.  Evidently  a  maying. 

108.  levyth  all  studyes:  the  word  play  is  lost  in  English  (j  studiis  vacant). 

110.  See  Introduction,  pp.  xxvii-xxviii. 

111.  the  castell:  Oxford  Castle.  See  i6g. 
113.  oute  of  the:  MS.  reads  'oute  the  of*. 


96  NOTES   TO  THE  TEXT 

114.  The  letter  *N*,  used  to  designate  both  speakers  in  the  MS.,  is  here 
omitted. 

11^.  noble:  a  gold  coin  then  valued  at  10;'. 

120.  [he]:  MS.  omits. 

12^.  [their];  MS.  reads  'his'. 

12J.  [prasyde]:  MS.  reads  'sparyde'  (laus  atque  amor  sunt  adhihenda). 

i^g.  The  speakers  seem  to  be  Boy,  Master,  and  Usher. 

stubberus:  stubborn  (cf.  'stobur*,  2^6).  O.E.D.  does  not  list  a  form 
of  the  adjective  without  a  final  *n'  but  does  record  the  adverb  'stoberlie' 
{c.  1430). 

140.  [creanser];  MS.  reads  'maister'  but  the  Latin  is  tutor  domi.  See  104, 
166,  and  24J,  and  Introduction,  p.  xxii. 

141.  Who  is  speaking  to  whom?  Perhaps  the  master  is  scolding  the  usher 
for  excessive  severity. 

142.  were  sorry:  MS.  reads  *wer  were  sorry.' 
146.  corrageles:  without  spirit  (O.E.D.,  1593). 

J55.  ydylnes:  dullness  (tarditatem).  O.E.D.  does  not  record  this  sense. 

156".  malvornn  hyllys:  cf.  'AH  about  Malvern  Hill  a  man  may  live  as 
long  as  he  will'  and  'As  old  as  the  hills'  (Apperson,  English  Proverbs  and 
Proverbial  Phrases,  1929). 

sende  not  the  soner  for  me:  do  not  call  me  home  soon. 
162.  dispo[si]cion:  MS.  reads  'dispocion*. 
i6p.  on  the  new  fascyon;  jocular  for  'with  a  beating'. 

lyo.  The  rules  of  most  schools  forbade  the  keeping  of  pets.  For  Magdalen 
practice  see  R.  S.  Stanier,  Magdalen  School  (Oxford,  1940),  p.  52. 

182.  bristyll:  hog's  bristle,  used  as  a  needle. 

18s.  maister:  the  context  seems  to  call  for  'creanser'  as  in  140  but  the  case  is 
less  clear.  The  Latin  reads  preceptor. 

i8j.  Taverne:  the  Latin  removes  the  dark  suspicion  that  the  boy's  visit 
to  the  tavern  was  extracurricular:  'taberna  in  qua  cum  magistro  fuero.* 

igi.  Cf  Tilley,  G284. 

1^2.  Ciceto:  cf  De  Amkitia,  xix.  67. 


NOTES  TO  THE  TEXT  97 

withoute  cny  tyme  it  fortune  to  a  mann:  an  awkward  translation  of  the 
Latin:  nisi  eiusmodi  tempus  incidat. 

ig^.  nothcr  mctc  nother  drynkc  do  mc  goode:  cf.  $g. 

202.  than  a  pcny  in  pursse:  cf.  Tilley,  F687;  O.D.E.P. 

304.  [wc]:  MS.  omits. 

20  J.  forde:  afford,  manage.  O.E.D.  does  not  list  this  form  of 'afford'. 

220.  Carfaxe:  the  Oxford  crossroads. 

221.  This  is  not  the  wild  exaggeration  that  it  may  seem  to  the  modem 
reader.  An  Oxford  statute  (c.  1410)  concerned  with  'chamberdekenys' 
(scholars  who  lodged  by  themselves)  describes  just  such  delinquents. 
They  spend  their  days  sleeping,  but  at  night  they  visit  taverns  and 
brothels  and  go  about  thieving  and  murdering.  The  University  therefore 
orders  that  all  scholars  must  reside  in  some  college  or  hall,  under  pain  of 
imprisonment  and  banishment,  and  that  no  townsman  shall  permit  a 
scholar  to  dwell  in  his  house  without  special  permission  (Anstey, 
Munimenta  Academical  i.  320;  Mallet,  History  of  the  University  of  Oxford, 
i.  334)- 

222.  frendes:  here  used  in  the  modern  sense. 

223.  to  many  thynges:  i.e.  to  rash  actions,  perhaps  suicide. 
tha[t]:  MS.  reads  'thas'. 

[have]:  MS.  omits. 
228.  light  of  ther  handys:  light/fingered,  either  in  the  sense  'dextrous  at 
pilfering'  or  in  the  sense  'pugnacious*  (sceksti  adeo  manuque  prompti  sunt). 
2J2.  ape  fro  tailys:  cf  Tilley,  A268. 
2^.  bewtynes:  not  in  O.E.D. 

238.  plautes  proposicion:  cf  Plautus,  Amphitruo,  i.  651. 
24^.  In  the  MS.  this  passage  follows  569  without  a  break. 
24y.  the  which:  the  antecedent  is  'creansers*. 

250.  the  longer  he  lyveth  the  Icsse  he  hath:  cf  Tilley,  L293  and  the  title  of 
W.  Wager's  play.  The  Longer  Thou  Livest  the  More  Foole  Thou  Art  (1633). 

255.  'spare  speke,  spare  spede*:  cf  Tilley  S709;  O.D.E.P. 

2$6.  The  wily  fox  is  common,  but  I  cannot  find  the  'olde  provcrbc'. 
Nor  do  I  recognize  the  fable  referred  to. 

257.  'an  hasty  man  lakkith  never  wo*:  cf  Tilley,  Mi 59;  O.D.E.P. 

6773  H 


98  NOTES  TO  THE  TEXT 

2§g.  This  passage  appears  twice  in  the  MS.,  at  fol.  28  and  fol.  55.  The 
latter  version  is  transcribed  here.  The  former  differs  in  its  omission  of  the 
words  'not  withoutc  a  cause*,  reads  'methynkith'  for  'mesemyth',  and 
varies  insignificantly  in  spelling. 

26^.  The  proverb  'service  is  none  heritage*  (Tilley,  S253)  means  that  one 
cannot  rely  upon  the  hire  paid  by  an  employer  as  one  can  upon  one*s 
own  possessions.  Cf  Thomas  More's  treatment  of  the  problem  in 
Utopia,  Book  I. 

268.  proctorshipe:  the  office  of  the  University  proctor.  The  proctor  serves 
for  one  year. 

^75.  the  which:  the  antecedent  is  'mountans*. 

The  story  of  Hannibars  use  of  vinegar  to  traverse  the  Alps  is  told 
in  Livy,  xxi.  37,  The  chemistry  of  the  method  remains  a  matter  of 
scholarly  dispute.  Our  author's  brimstone  does  not  derive  from  Livy. 

2JJ.  Other:  utter  (quant  ciuibus  cum  hostibus  submersme).  O.E.D.  does  not 
record  this  form. 

280.  paris:  MS.  reads  'parish*  (parisii). 

286.  comyn:  consult  (O.E.D.,  s.v.  'common*  [vb.]). 

301.  woldist  come:  MS.  reads  'woldist  not  come*. 

302.  aske  and  have:  cf.  Tilley,  A343. 

303.  [that]:  MS.  reads  'the*. 

507.  prety  and  colde:  the  Latin  (frigidiuscule)  suggests  that  'prety*  is  used 
in  the  adverbial  sense  still  current  of  'somewhat*  or  'rather*.  Cf.  O.E.D. 
S.V.  'pretty*  (a)  5  c.  for  the  usage  'pretty  and*, 
fenell  seede:  a  spice  used  in  drinks.  Cf  Piers  Plowman,  A,  v.  155-6: 
I  haue  peper  and  piane,  and  a  pound  of  garlek, 
A  ferthing^worth  of  fenel/seed,  for  this  fastyng  dayes. 

308.  gentlemann:  puerum  ingenuum, 

31  J.  ever  augmenrith:  MS.  reads  'ever  augmentith  ever*. 

324.  weedes;  inu tiles  berbas. 

32 J.  horson:  sceleste. 

5JI.  In  the  MS.  both  persons  of  the  dialogue  are  labelled  'N*  and  the 

letter  is  prefixed  to  each  of  the  speeches.  For  the  Latin  of  this  piece,  sec 

p.  103. 


NOTES   TO  THE  TEXT  99 

what  bredc:  wheaten  bread  (O.E.D.  does  not  record  this  form). 
552.  The  MS.  labels  both  speakers  *N*. 
J55.  The  MS.  labels  both  speakers  *N*. 

337'  U]'  omitted  in  the  English  version  but  present  in  the  Latin. 
^46.  Therence:  Andria,  1.  44. 
348.  Cicero:  De  Officiis,  i.  146. 

551.  blouth  the  fyre:  usually  has  the  sense  'stir  up  strife*.  Apparently  the 
usage  here  is  without  pejorative  intention,  'stir  things  up'. 

552.  bolne:  swollen.  The  Latin  (totum  caput  tuber)  derives  from  Terence, 
Adelphi,  1.  245. 

361.  or  els:  MS.  reads  'or  in  els*. 

5^3.  the  poet:  Ovid,  Amores,  iii.  4,  17. 

565.  of  payne:  a  culpa  quant  apena. 

569.  In  the  MS.  this  passage  is  followed  without  break  by  243. 

lenyng  to  a  tree:  elephants  were  reputed  to  relax  in  this  fashion. 
575.  devyll  may  daunce:  proverbial.  Cf.  Tilley,  D233. 

crose:  the  coin  marked  with  a  cross,  a  small  coin. 

57^.  pr[e]cious:  MS.  omits  *e*. 

^j6.  stirbrige  faire:  Stourbridge  Fair,  near  Cambridge,  one  of  the 
greatest  of  English  fairs,  held  annually  for  three  weeks  beginning  18 
September. 

3j^.  The  embargo  on  trade  with  Flanders  to  which  this  passage  refers 
was  imposed  in  September  1493  and  lifted  in  February  1496  (Wilhelm 
Busch,  England  under  the  Tudors  [1895],  pp.  88,  148).  War  was  not 
declared. 

harnysede  menn:  the  Yeomen  of  the  Guard,  instituted  by  Henry  VII. 
The  Guard  was  formed  at  the  beginning  of  the  reign,  in  1485;  perhaps 
it  was  increased  in  size  during  the  Perkin  Warbcck  troubles  which 
brought  about  the  embargo. 

381.  This  and  the  two  following  passages  speak  of  an  unprecedented 
drop  in  the  price  of  farm  produce.  According  to  J.  E.  Thorold  Rogers, 
A  History  of  Agriculture  and  Prices  in  England  (Oxford,  1882),  vol.  iii,  the 
price  of  wheat  was  lower  in  1495-6  and  in  1499-1500  than  it  had  been 


100  NOTES   TO  THE  TEXT 

for  many  years.  In  i50$)-io  prices  dropped  lower  still,  but  this  seems  too 
late  for  our  manuscript.  The  Great  Chronick  of  London  (ed.  A.  H.  Thomas 
and  I.  D.  Thornley,  London,  1938),  which  records  only  exceptional 
price  changes,  remarks  on  the  low  price  of  wheat  (four  shillings  a  quarter) 
in  the  mayoral  years  1494-5  (p.  254)  and  1499-1500  (p.  290). 

5&.  See  the  note  on  ^81. 
555.  See  the  note  on  ^81. 

white  come:  grain,  that  is,  a  crop  that  'whitens'  in  ripening. 
5^5.  price  and  pryke:  the  praise  of  excellence.  O.E.D.,  s.v.  prick. 

^86.  The  reference  is  to  an  incident  thought  worthy  of  recording  in  the 
Great  Chronicle  (p.  286).  Shortly  after  6  December  1498  'the  wedyr^ 
cok  of  paulys  takyn  doun  &  agayn  sett  upp  by  a  Carpenter  of  london 

callid  Godffrey but  it  was  the  latter  ende  of  maii  or  he  hadd  all 

fFynyshid  his  besynes  abowth  the  same'. 

5S7.  commyssarye:  the  University  chancellor's  deputy  (an  obsolete 

Oxford  acceptation). 


APPENDIX  I 
The  Latin  Version  of  Passages  i,  52,  and^p 

Passage  No.  1 

Mundus  ipse  deteriorescit  in  dies,  omniaque  sunt  ordine  mutato 
inuersa,  quicquid  enim  paruo  mihi  post  trimatum  ad  decennium 
quantisper  sub  tutela  parentum  fui  (nunc  veto  annum  ago  duo^ 
decimum)  voluptati  fuerat,  tandem  cxiit  in  tormenta  et  supplicium. 
In  illo  namque  tempore  assidue  in  vultum  diei  in  strato  cubabam 
quotidie  somno  indulgcns  et  segnicie.  phebus  immisit  radios  ad 
fenestras  lucerne  loco  splendorem  ministrans.  O  quante  mihi 
voluptati  erat  omni  diluculo  orto  sole  obleaare  me  in  lintheis 
tectum,  trabes  cubiculi  et  tigna  contemplari,  item  tapeta  quibus 
conclaue  ornabatur  intueri.  Nemo  sane  mentis,  se  auctore  con^ 
fisus,  a  somno  citari  [for  citare]  ausit  dormire  volentem.  mea  sponte 
rogatus  surgebam,  abeunteque  [for  abeuntique]  ultro  quiescendi 
libidine  expergefactus,  accersiui  quos  volebam  qui  impromptu 
mihi  indumenta  ponerent.  Inuocanti  quoque  mihi  quotiens  libuit 
ad  grabati  spondam,  oblatum  erat  iantaculum  [for  ientaculum]. 
ita  prius  nonnumquam  pastus  quam  amiaus  eram.  Item  aliis 
voluptatibus  potitus  eram  pluribus  quarum  alie  oblivioni  tradite 
sunt,  alias  memoria  teneo.  Sed  non  sum  vacuus  ad  memorandum. 
Sed  iam  ordo  rerum  alia  rota  vertitur.  ut  quando  hora  diei  quinta 
beneficio  lune  uso  Uteris  incumbendum  est,  relictis  somno  et 
segnicie.  Si  ludi  magister  forsan  excitauerit  fascem  virgarum  secum 
pro  lucerna  afFert.  Tandem  supcrsedeo  voluptatibus  quibus  totus 
olim  indulgebam.  hie  nihil  offertur  nisi  mine  cum  verberibus. 
lantacula  [for  lentacula]  quondam  ad  iussum  illata  non  reditura 
unquam  exulatum  abiere.  plura  meis  de  infortuniis  dicerem  sed 
quamuis  sim  vacuus  ad  narrandum,  nanandi  tamen  voluntatem 
amisi.  eorum  enim  commemoracio  animum  reddit  tristiorem. 


102  THE  LATIN  VERSION  OF 

Omnis  ego  causas  quero  aliquando  viuendi  arbitratu  meo,  quum 
mihi  liceat  pro  libidine  vel  a  strato  surgere  vel  [me]  dormitum  con^ 
ferre  isto  vapulandi  metu  liberatu[m]. 


Passage  No.  52 

—  Ditissimi  cuiusque  filii  passim  in  euo  puerili  corrumpuntur  hiis 
diebus,  idque  domi  apud  parentes,  quod  plane  miserandum  est. 
sed  quibus  pereunt  modis  (sit  verbis  fides  si  libet)  non  possum  nisi 
lacrimans  exprimere. 

—  lam  veritatis  es  transgressus  limites.  verius  dixisse  plerosque 
oportuit.  baud  enim  animi  pendio  [for  pendeo]  quin  non  nuUos 
cum  urbanitate  turn  scienciis  perquam  probatissimos  nouerim, 
quos  si  locarem  inter  primos  minime  videor  iniurius  esse.  At  quid 
me  malum  impulit  ut  orationi  tue  mea  verba  insererem?  liquide 
appareo  ab  humanitate  esse  alienus,  diligentius  quoque  pastum 
atque  doctum  dixeris.  perge  obsecro  dicere.  verba  forsan  alicui 
tua  continget  in  frugem  verti. 

—  Matres  oportet  apud  se  retinere  qui  cum  pro  puppis  nugentur 
perinde  quasi  ad  iocum  et  nugas  nascerentur  liberi.  eos  animant  et 
verbis  et  rebus  quo  licenter  omnia  factitent.  ita  lasciuiis  et  licencia 
effeminati  fede  precipites  eunt.  item  si  contigerit  matres  poUices 
[for  pellices]  aut  patres  compellare  cuculos  (uti  interdum  euenit) 
arrident  et  pro  faceciis  capiunt,  non  extra  genus  esse  arbitrantes 
licencia  pueritiam  liberos  agere.  Insaniam  esse  ducunt  ad  scolas 
trudere,  satis  id  dignum  censentes  quicquam  domi  dedicerint  [a 
pun  on  didicerint?].  Non  paciuntur  penas  dare,  non  si  omnia 
lucrat,  nam  si  Here  viderint  radicitus  esse  necatos  opinantur. 
faciam  vobis  exemplar  de  quodam  propinquo  meo  qui  hie  in 
vicino  apud  domum  propriam  primis  incumbit  elimentis.  is  ut 
domum  redit  plorans  (postquam  a  cute  pulices  preceptor  abegerit) 
aautum  mater  nates  spectat  visura  plage  si  appareant.  Ast  si  viderit 
extare  vibices  in  fletum  et  luaum  tota  soluitur  ut  que  foret  mente 
capta.  tum  seueritatem  magistrorum  queritur  malle  se  ingemens 
sepultum  videre  quam  eo  more  tractari  filium.  hec  et  ad  hunc 


PASSAGES    I,   52,   AND    33I  103 

modum  infinita  verba  faciunt.  interdum  quoque  prolis  causa  turba 
oritur  inter  maritum  suam  et  coniugem,  quin  que  ille  mandat 
hecque  inhibet.  ita  procedente  tempore  quum  ad  etatem  maturam 
peruenerint  euadunt  ad  omnia  scelera  perpetranda  paruifacientes 
flagitium  committere  fedissimum.  Et  ad  postremum  per  meritum 
aliquot  suspendio  moriuntur,  nonnulli  decollantur,  alius  alia  via 
interit,  ad  quem  exitum  ducti  imprecantur  parentibus  et  aliis  qui 
in  pueritia  eorum  regimen  habuere. 


Passage  No.  551 

—  Quo  te  recipis  ? 

—  molendinum  peto. 

—  cuius  rei  si  deo  placet  agende  gratia? 

—  ne  insis  impedimento  ut  qui  grauiter  onoratus  sum,  etiam 
longa  via  restat.  non  vides  quam  capacem  cum  frumento  saccum 
pre  defectu  iumenti  in  ceruice  baiulo,  et  adhuc  intersunt  hinc  ad 
molam  duo  milia? 

—  egisti  vero  strenue  qui  tale  consecutus  es  seruicium  in  quo  et 
hominum  et  iumentorum  partes  sunt  agende. 

—  morare  paulisper.  istic  mox  frumento  molito  reuertar,  nam 
posita  omni  mora,  propere  domum  rediundum  [/or  redeundum] 
est. 

—  qui  cedo? 

—  non  enim  est  buccella  panis  qua  vescamur  domi  et  illic  ora  non 
sunt  numero  pauca. 

—  quid  opus  est,  pane  qui  detur  istiusmodi  verberonibus  qualis 
tu  es?  nonne  fabas  et  pisas  pro  deliciis  haberes?  herbarum  radices 
sunt  edulia;  panis  autem  liberorum  esset. 

—  Quis  istius  dominatur  domus  ? 

—  ego  vero  presum  huic  domui  et  euro  omnia  que  hie  aguntur 
absente  domino,  potestne  mea  tibi  opera  usui  esse  ? 

—  primum  admitte  me  intro. 

—  fiet  ac  libenter. 

/ 


104  THE   LATIN   VERSION 

—  quid  obsonii  habes  quod  homincm  ad  esum  sui  prouoces? 

—  habeo  multa  ciborum  genera:  puta  sparulorum  caudas, 
reliquias  allicium  et  capitella,  salsarum  pelliculas  anguillarum. 
quod  cordi  erit  tnaxime  eliges. 

—  quid  me  ludibrio  habes?  quin  aliud  cibi  exime  ne  feras 
infortunium. 

—  visne  pisces  fluuiatiles? 

—  volo. 

—  profecto  haberes  si  superessent,  sed  sedula  arte  opus  est  ut 
prehendantur. 

—  rursum  derides. 

—  absit  ut  ego  talem  derideam. 


APPENDIX  II 
Order  of  Passages  in  the  Manuscript 

The  reader  can  reconstruct  the  order  in  which  the  passages  appear 
in  the  manuscript  by  observing  the  following  sequence: 

fol.  9:  241, 14, 175. 95.  89. 336,  235, 181. 165. 

fol.  10:  299.  257.  261,  337.  332,  237.  96. 

fol.  11:  94, 183, 265, 117, 188, 74, 40, 115. 

fol.  12:  133,  349.  <5i,  63, 157.  127,  31.  64,  loi. 

fol.  13:  103,  27,  353,  245,  39.  109.  347.  169,  306,  140. 

fol.  14:  107,  161,  25,  280,  315.  176,  7.  170,  149.  90. 

fol.  15:  75,  166,  219,  III,  236,  377,  78. 

fol.  16:  231,  374,  230,  264,  269,  222. 

fol.  17: 160,  H3, 168, 220,  n6, 48,  8, 163, 23. 

fol.  18:  21,  76, 172,  98,  35.  205, 352,  2Z4, 387. 

fol.  19:  141, 143, 174.  54.  319,  2l8, 112,  3I<5. 

fol.  20:  72,  55,  60,  246,  303,  295,  148.  134- 

fol.  21:  69,  375.  87.  50.  37.  9. 

fol.  22:  128,  77,  189,  225,  206,  194,  I95»  192. 

fol.  23:  159.  93.  266,  283,  59,  178. 

fol.  24:  308,  262,  146,  385,  167,  152,  207,  288,  369,  243. 

fol.  25:  239,  270,  363,  196,  384. 

fol.  26:  275,  267,  145,  70,  32,  273. 

fol.  27:  383,  212,  208,  272,  100,  79. 

fol.  28:  309,  197,  19,  311,  259,  142.  102. 

fol.  29:  221,  121,  130,  293,  350,  287,  13. 

fol.  30:  291,  17,  227,  226,  300,  282. 

fol.  31:  223,  285,  310,  2,  247. 

fol.  32:  286,  209,  289,  348,  210,  30. 

fol.  33:  368,  16,  346,  211,  364,  198. 

/ 


166  ORDER  OF  PASSAGES 

fol.  34:  82,  147,  382,  213,  305,  290. 

fol.  35:  187,  104,  108,  199,  296,  217, 

fol.  36:  214,  258,  317,  297,  301,  83. 

fol.  37:  298,  81,  294,  304,  268,  200. 

fol.  38:  119,  71,  216,  123,  124. 

fol.  39:  126,  378,  144.  379,  153,  244. 

fol.  40:  91,  132,  367,  58,  360,  67,  20,  62. 

fol.  41:  321,  38,  68,  162,  233,  277,  271. 

fol.  42:  276,  274,  215,  356. 

fol.  43:  361,  381,  120,  279,  302,  284. 

fol.  44:  10,  129,  36,  366. 

fol.  45:  238,  18,  331.* 

fol.  46:  345.  I* 

fol.  47:  49,  335. 

fol.  48:  139,  52.* 

fol.  49:  52  continued. 

fol.  50:  114,  263. 

fol.  51:  105,  84,  56,  357,  372,  351,  278,  53,  386. 

fol.  52:  47,  320, 164,  355,  42,  85,  248, 182,  no. 

fol.  53:  155,  354,  362,  201,  202,  318,  6,  204,  180,  359. 

fol.  54:  358,  254,  73,  228,  334.  373,  307,  240,  15,  26. 

fol.  55:  259,  156,  328,  43,  344.  171,  185,  92,  370, 154,  256. 

fol.  56:  150,  97,  365,  232,  22,  190,  46,  118,  242,  158,  329,  137- 

fol.  57:  65,  44,  135,  151.  376,  186,  24,  260,  380,  3,  41,  33,  126,  330. 

fol.  58:  138,  125,  4,  333,  173,  281,  177,  57,  122,  88,  184,  312,  5,  292, 

249,  51- 
fol.  59:  29,  136,  28,  45,  322,  250,  86,  339,  340.  342,  338,  179,  34.  80. 
fol.  60:  313,  327,  99,  229,  314,  251,  66,  2S2,  324,  253,  323,  325,  255, 

193,  106,  191,  131. 
fol.  61:  371,  II,  12,  343,  203,  341.  234- 

*For  Latin  version  see  Appendix  I. 


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